Once Upon a Cedric
by twistyguru
Summary: When Cedric died, Harry Potter lost his first love. What if that led to Harry going bad-REALLY bad? What if something could be done to prevent it? Harry/Cedric slash, het Draco/Other, Hermione/Ron, Technomagic, Dark!Harry implied, AU, NEW last Chapter up!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: so, after reading HP fanfics for years, I finally knuckled down and finished one. This is actually in response to a request from a friend whose OTP is Harry/Cedric and who STILL hasn't forgiven JKR for killing off our favorite sex-on-legs Hufflepuff. Of course, if I owned the HP franchise (and had anything to be sued for, which I don't, lawyers take note) I wouldn't have killed him off, either. So, this is my tribute (Attention Lawyers: it's a TRIBUTE, which garners me NO profit whatsoever) to the magical world JKR has given us--with my own little twist.

You've probably seen a few of the cliches in this fic before, but after 8 million-odd fics, they all blur together (duh). So, if you see something you created, feel special...I obviously liked it enought to steal it, which is really the most sincere form of flattery.

Yes, this is a SLASH story--don't like, don't read--but no gratuitous aardvarking will be graphically described (shucks!). The main pairing is Harry/Cedric (light snogging only, Harry's still underage and Cedric is the perfect gentleman), with a dash of het Draco Malfoy/Other Character (a MUGGLE! Oh, the shame!), implied Hermione/Ron and Susan Bones/Justin Finch-Fletchley.

One last thing...I'm not English, so please excuse any flaws in the titles. Or, if any of you from across the pond want to help out, I'd be glad to have your input. Now, I hope that you enjoy my little story!

**Once Upon a Cedric: Prologue**

"Sir, I think we've isolated the crux point."

"Confidence level?" The officer in command of the installation barked a question at the speaker, breaking off his previous conversation instantly.

"Point niner six four and rising, sir."

"Very good. Let's see it." The officer turned to face the enormous central view screen.

Most of the eyes in the room turned with him, Muggle and Wizard alike straining to make out the vague images which flickered and danced there.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin! Can't we do better than this? Is there any way to clean up that picture?" the commanding officer asked irritably.

Several technicians bent over their consoles, hurriedly adjusting the controls in an attempt to satisfy their commander. Three others took out their wands, nodded to each other, and focused their energies on the screen. Within moments, their combined efforts bore fruit.

They were looking at a graveyard. A large cauldron sat just off center of the screen, with two young men standing on one side and a shabbily-dressed man on the other. None of the figures were moving.

The commander looked at the screen thoughtfully. "Coordinates?" he asked.

The first technician answered immediately. "Crux point minus five seconds and holding, sir. Confidence level now point niner eight niner and climbing. The computers estimate confidence approximating unity within the next six to nine minutes, General.

Major (the Honorable) Sir Neville Longbottom, Lord Longbottom, OBE, turned to the woman who stood beside him. "Well, Hermione, it looks like you were right after all. Diggory's death was the crucial turning point."

Professor Dame Hermione Granger-Weasley pursed her lips but remained silent as she continued to study the view screen. After a moment, she turned and addressed one of several persons standing around the periphery of a large, open area just behind the command level.

"Draco, are your people ready?" she asked.

Lord Sir Draco Malfoy, Earl Malfoy, nodded his affirmation and then raised his single arm, wand held high. His eyes twinkled in his horribly burned and scarred face as he turned to the young Muggle seated just to his right. While his wounds prohibited him giving her anything remotely resembling a smile, his ruined voice was light when he addressed her.

"Lieutenant, I think you can begin the power ramp-up cycle now."

The young woman smiled up at the scarred man. If she noticed his wounds, she gave no sign when she answered. "Of course, me lord. Power-up protocols initiated." Her hands played across her station with easy confidence, not stopping even as she quietly asked the Earl a question over the thrum of generators spooling up.

"Draco, do you really think we can pull this off?"

Malfoy turned from his inspection of the magical symbols which had begun to glow softly on the floor. "Sally, if I didn't think we could do this, I wouldn't be here."

Sally snorted, even as Malfoy went back to his inspection of the glowing symbols. "And where else would you be, Lord Malfoy? Certainly not at that pile of rubble you call Malfoy Manor."

Without looking at her, he answered. "I'd probably be somewhere in deepest, darkest Canada, or perhaps America; hiding as deeply and completely as I possibly could. Hopefully, with you there with me." He didn't have to look at her to feel her smile.

Suddenly, red lights began flashing and a wailing alarm sounded.

"Intruder Alert! We have unidentified personnel appariting in just outside the perimeter. Multiple contacts, I repeat multiple contacts appariting in!" A tall man in robes touched his ear bug as he gave the report.

"They're on to us!" A single voice cut through the immediate rumble, impossible to locate but filled with terror.

Major Longbottom was snapping orders even before the young wizard completed his announcement. "Initiate complete base lock-down, now! Even number security teams to secure the portal room, odd numbers to the perimeter. Deploy automated defenses, lethal force is authorized. I repeat: lethal force is authorized." He turned to Hermione.

"How long before we can pull him out?" His voice was quiet, measured…anxious.

Before she answered, she glanced down at the PDA she held, then over at the young lieutenant next to Draco. When the lieutenant shook her head slightly, Hermione sighed and turned back.

"At least another four minutes, Neville. We have to have that long just to _get_ Cedric. Then, we have to move him to safety before they…before _he_ gets here." Her voice was low, insistent.

Major Longbottom looked thoughtful, considering his options. Looking around, he let the data on the progress of the battle for the complex flow over him. Monitor screens showed frantic efforts to repel wand-wielding figures, while several servicemen were reporting portals opened at various points with heavy armor coming through. He might have enough strength to hold…or he might not. It was going to be a close call either way.

Suddenly Neville's attention was pulled to one particular screen that showed an imposing figure in black surrounded by a circle of blood-red robes. The shock of hair on the black-garbed figure was white-shot black, and the scar on his forehead glowed a sickly crimson. Brilliant green eyes flashed hotly in the screen before it went abruptly, irrevocably dark.

"Harry," he breathed, and then reached a decision. He reached into his jacket, pulled out a small key that had hung around his neck. Wordlessly, he walked to a nearby control station, flipped back a yellow striped cover, inserted the key and turned it one quarter turn clockwise. He studiously ignored the shocked looks from those personnel around him as touched a control.

"Attention, all personnel. This is Major Longbottom. The use of tactical nuclear weapons is now authorized. I repeat, the use of tactical nuclear weapons is now authorized. Rules of Engagement Case Omega are now in effect, repeat Case Omega. I say again, Case Omega Rules are now active. I know you will all do your best. Godspeed and God bless.

For the briefest of moments, silence fell in the control room; then, the frantic rush of sound returned. Neville turned to Hermione, who was standing silently, watching him with her head cocked to one side.

"I can buy you five minutes, Hermione, but they won't come cheaply. More than that, I can't guarantee." Grimly, he turned back to monitor the battle raging outside.

Dame Weasley nodded, then turned to Draco and Sally. "All right, let's make sure everything's in order. We should have a high enough confidence level to begin the initial spell work now. Draco, if you would…?" she indicated for the scarred man to begin.

Malfoy nodded, and his wand began to move as he started to chant under his breath. Around the now brightly glowing circle of runes and symbols, other wizards also raised their wands and began their own chants. Meanwhile, almost as many Muggles under Sally's direction monitored their instruments, guiding an ever-increasing flow of power into the circle. The hum of the generators and other equipment rose steadily, as did the voices of the chanting witches and wizards.

The command area's screens, those that were still working, showed scenes from an antechamber of Hell. Men, women, machines, giants, dragons and other beasts; all fought and died along a steadily-shrinking perimeter. Once, twice, a third time all of the screens flashed a brilliant white; each time, fewer and fewer came back on line. Each time the screens flashed, the power in the room flickered for an instant, then steadied. There might have been a shudder in the ground with each flash, but everyone in the portal room was too busy with their own tasks to notice.

"Perimeter collapse is imminent! Prepare to resist base incursion!"

Neville Longbottom watched with growing dismay as the men and women under his command sold themselves dear. The enemy was having to fight for every inch, and his troops were literally stepping forward over the bodies of their fallen comrades. Still, they were stepping forward, albeit slowly. He guessed that enemy troops would be at the portal room blast doors within two, perhaps three minutes.

He turned to find Hermione looking back and forth between the monitors, the main viewer, and the now blindingly glowing circle behind him. The whine of the generators was almost unbearable, and he could barely hear the chanting over the generators and the other noises in the room.

"Hermione, if you and Draco are going to do anything, it had better be soon," he almost-yelled over the tumult. He saw her nod, then turned away once more.

"Draco!" Hermione yelled. "Start the final spells now!" Her eyes flicked to a screen that showed a huge form lumbering up to the blast door that opened onto the far end of the room. The screen blanked before she could identify what it was, but then she heard the meter-thick door ring like a bell as something struck it.

Malfoy must have heard her, for abruptly his wand motions dramatically changed. Orange, yellow and red bursts of energy leapt from his wand, racing around and dueling with the luminous blue glow of the floor symbols. Faster and faster the different colors traced out the intricate patterns, creating an almost hypnotic effect. The regular pounding on the blast door became a rhythmic counterpoint to the chanting and now-screaming generators. Just as the pitch of the generators was about to climb out of the range of human hearing, Draco jerked his arm straight up with a final shout….

***

Meanwhile, in the cemetery, at a confidence interval of greater than point niner niner six:

"Kill the spare."

"Avada Kedavra!"

A brilliant flash of light blinded Harry Potter for a fraction of a second as Wormtail cast the Killing Curse at Cedric Diggory. When Harry's vision cleared, he saw…

**Next Chapter:** **The End of the Tail?** _OR_ **Cedric Falls and Busts His Bum** _(oh Merlin, that was awful, wasn't it?)_

Another A/N: Review if you like, or don't, as you will. Yes, I'm my own beta (as if you couldn't tell!). No, I don't particularily want to be flamed. No, your comments probably won't change me, my writing style, the story, or my underwear. Yes, I want to hear how marvelous you think I am. No, I am NOT allergic to chocolate in any way/shape/form/fashion. Yes, I can be bribed...cheaply. Yes, the bulk of this story is already finished with fifteen chapters, but may drag on for another few more. Yes, I'll be posting a chapter every day or so, depending on computer and chocolate status (the computer is dying, btw...). Yes, I love you all. Yes, I'd like to thank the Academy, and all of the little people who made this award possible....


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Oops, for some reason this chapter was actually Chapter 3, hopefully it's fixed now! I tried to get it to replace the existing Chapter Two, without success...so after I tried the old 'delete and then re-post', I find out that the program won't let me. *sigh*. So, I'm faced with reposting the whole censored censored censored censored thing, or just putting it here. Guess which is gonna happen? Life is censored censored censored censored censored censored, and then censored censored censored censored! At any rate, at this point I'm too frustrated to think about doing anything other than just deleting the whole thing and taking up naked bungee jumping--but that would (a) make strong men weep (b) make women gasp (c) make the small children laugh and point fingers while (d) scaring the horses. So, here's the ORIGINAL second chapter. Will it ever get fixed? Dunno. All I can figure out is to delete everything and start over, which would be about as much fun as a long, slow root canal. Anyway, here it is....

Another note: well, this is now getting ridiculous, I'm my frustration level with trying to fix things is about at the 'screw it and be done' point...but I've been working very hard on resisting the temptation to just delete the whole damn thing and shred it. However, I've gotten too many good reviews to do that, so...I'm going to try ONCE MORE to post this chapter, then finish the story. After that, I really don't know at this point, but I do know enough to NOT make any final decision when I'm this angry and frustrated at a computer program. Especially since the sequel to this is moving along at such a fast clip. So, I hope you enjoy this fix...assuming you ever get to see it at all, that is.

See previous disclaimer

**Chapter Two**

"Avada Kedavra!"

Cedric Diggory realized what was happening just in time to know that he was going to die. He saw the brilliant flash of green streaking towards him….

…when all the molecules in his body felt like they were being portkeyed separately, simultaneously, in all different directions. There was a sensation of being torn to shreds at the most basic level, drawn through a sieve piece by piece, and then shoved back together like biscuit dough remnants.

He was dizzy, nauseous, disoriented, and off balance. Then, he fell on his arse.

It felt like he had landed on stone or concrete. A cacophony of sounds assaulted his ears; far too many to even begin to sort out. He was effectively blind from the spots and flashes that danced in his eyes. He began retching, but as all he had before entering the maze was a cup of Earl Grey, there was precious little in him to come up.

"Up we go, Cedric, there's a good lad," he heard a raspy voice say at his side. A strong arm linked beneath his, pulling him to his feet. "Sally, make sure you've got his wand, can't be leaving that behind."

When he heard his wand mentioned, Cedric realized that he must have dropped it when he fell. Instinctively, he began to struggle, wanting to be let loose to search for it, but the arm holding his refused to let go.

"My wand!" he croaked, somewhat surprised that he could talk at all. He felt a small hand press the familiar handle into his left hand, cool fingers wrapping around his to prevent him loosing it again.

"I've got it, we've got it!" A feminine voice rang out over the explosions and screams (?) that seemed to be coming closer. "Go, go, go!"

"Target is clear!" The voice from his other side rasped. Cedric had just enough time to realize that it was coming from the man holding his right arm before the familiar tug of a normal portkey jerked at him behind his navel.

After the cacophony they had just left, the silence was deafening. At least, that was Cedric's last thought before he passed out.

***

The former Miss Hermione Granger saw the threesome portkey out just before the first dent appeared in the blast doors. Part of her mind raced to calculate the amount of force needed to bend a meter of magically-reinforced metaloceramic alloy, but only a small part. A backup screen showing that particular corridor revealed only a dark, swirling mass which surged each time a resounding 'boom' came from the door. It was obvious that the door would not last more than another few strikes.

All around her, personnel were portkeying away now that their purpose had been accomplished. Turning, she regarded the one man she knew that she would have to drag from his post to safety.

"Neville, it's time to go."

The last of the Longbottoms shook his head. "No, 'Mione. This is my command. I won't abandon my post." Both of them almost fell as the entire complex shook to its foundations. A corner of the blast door ripped loose, and a gout of noxious flame shot into the room. Fortunately, they were the last two people there, and no one was injured. "I still have one last duty to perform." Reaching down, he put his palm flat on a glass plate, triggering the automatic scanning mechanism.

"Identify Neville Longbottom." His voice was calm, unhurried. The blast door boomed again, and more flames and smoke poured into the room.

The emotionless computer voice immediately responded. "Confirm Sir Neville Longbottom, Major, Commanding this installation." Inhuman screams and other sounds from the corridor were growing louder and louder.

"Action code Omega Zed. Repeat, Omega Zed. Confirm and execute." Another boom, and Hermione was sure that the next would bring the door crashing down.

"Confirm self destruct command. Self destruct in five seconds."

Neville straightened and stood to parade rest. He looked prepared to stand in that position for all eternity.

"Goodbye, Hermione, and godspeed. Tell my people I am proud of them."

With a rueful smile and a shake of her head, Hermione reached out and grabbed Neville's arm. "Gryffindor to the core," she almost laughed, as she activated her portkey. From the corner of her eye, she saw the much-abused door explode inward and come hurtling towards them. Then, they disappeared.

The multi-ton door slammed harmlessly into the far wall of the room just as the 50 kiloton nuclear device under Neville's chair went off.

***

When they landed in their designated safe house, Hermione turned to a sputtering Neville with the first grin she'd shown in far too long. If that grin was a little hysterical, well, Neville was too busy being outraged to notice.

"There, now you can say that you didn't desert…I kidnapped you, instead." She batted her eyes at him, suddenly reminding him of the girl he had attended Hogwarts with so many years past. "Think the courts-martial will forgive me for not letting one of our best generals get himself killed?" Sobering, she went on. "Nev, so many of us are gone already…please forgive me for not letting you throw your life away?"

Neville Longbottom had not earned a chest full of honors and awards by being stupid. Quietly, he took one of his oldest friends into his arms and held her as she allowed herself a rare moment to simply cry.

Of course, he would forgive her…as she knew that he already had.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Woo hoo! Reviews! Hits, even! (does the happy dance) Still no chocolates... (pouts). Still no profits from a franchise I don't own, still not worth the paper to file a lawsuit with. Desperately hoping posting problems will improve, posting extra today to reward faithful readers. Last chapter was just squeezed in just to include nuclear explosions, without which no HP story is complete (well, maybe not). Hopefully, that will be the last of the nukes...we hope (ooooh...foreshadowing, how literary!)

**Chapter Three**

Cedric woke with a start. He was lying on a cot in a small room that was not much bigger than the cot itself. Someone had tucked a blanket around his shoulders, and he was a bit hot under it. Pushing it aside, he sat up, causing his head to pound unmercifully. His shoes had been removed, presumably by the same someone who had tucked him in.

The walls, floor, ceiling, door and furniture were all painted shades of gray. A bedside table held two bottles of water, a stomach settling potion, a packet of muggle pain relief tablets and a large bar of muggle candy. At least, that was how they were labeled. There was also a folded piece of parchment labeled 'Cedric—please read'. His wand was lying across the note, keeping it closed.

Picking up his wand, he quickly scanned the parchment for any signs of hexes or other magical traces. He found nothing, not even when he tested for the residual spell trace that would mark a portkey. Cautiously, he opened the note and read in neat handwriting:

_Cedric,_

_You are in no danger, and we mean you no harm. Right now, you must be feeling just awful, so please take the potion and muggle tablets, drink some water and try to rest for a bit. Someone will be along to fetch you directly, but not for a least an hour. The door is unlocked, but please stay here and rest. You'll see the loo, of course. Feel free to freshen up, but please don't shower. We'll explain later. The candy isn't Honeydukes, but it's not bad._

_Again, we mean you no harm. Try to relax._

_Susan Bones (Hufflepuff, '98)_

Cedric huffed to himself at the signature…of course he knew that Susan Bones was Hufflepuff, three years behind him, no need to be bloody obvious about it. He wasn't some sodding Gryff or Slyth, not to know all the members of his own house! Certainly, the note could have been written by anyone, but why go to such trouble? He definitely remembered hearing and seeing the AK cast at him, so why wasn't he dead? Who had made the Triwizard Cup into a portkey, and for what purpose? He remembered Harry screaming something about having been in the graveyard before, but….

Too many questions, and his brain really was hurting. He also felt like he was going to start heaving at any second. He opened the potion and sniffed it. It smelled right, so he quickly drank it down. It tasted like it should—chalk—which led to him opening and drinking from one of the water bottles. The bottle seals were unbroken, and the water tasted, well, like water. As his stomach began to calm, he read the label on the packet of pain relievers and, following the instructions, took both tablets. Finishing the first bottle of water, he considered the second briefly before deciding that whatever fate awaited him he didn't want to go to it thirsty.

After making short work of the second bottle, he carefully stood up and stepped into the small lavatory that adjoined his room. A second door in the loo suggested that it was shared with another, similar room, but this door was locked from his side. He paused, but then decided that now was not the time to go haring off like a Gryffindor. That made him think of Harry, and his heart raced, but there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it just now. He availed himself of the WC, splashed his face with some water, and returned to the cot. He noticed that his shoes had been placed neatly under the cot, but he decided to leave them be for the present. Sighing, he lay back and tried not to think about his pounding headache or the soreness he seemed to feel in his entire body. After a bit, he seemed to feel a bit better and, having nothing better to do, began to doze.

He was pulled back to wakefulness some unknown amount of time later by the sound of the latch on the door. Swinging his feet to the floor, he was about to stand when the door opened. A young woman in the uniform of a British army lieutenant stood there, smiling at him.

"Mr. Diggory? Would you come with me, please?" While her voice was pleasant, Cedric had no doubt that it was actually an order rather than a request. Standing, he reached for his wand, which was lying on the small table. Holding it firmly, he looked at the woman questioningly. She showed no reaction to his reclaiming his wand beyond nodding, then turning and walking away.

Cedric found himself being led down a corridor done in the same drab grays as the room where he had awakened. Doors lined either side of the corridor, and a few were open, revealing small rooms identical to the one he had just been in. In short order, the corridor opened up into a largish common area. A row of glass-fronted Muggle vending machines dominated one wall, while two sets of double doors on the opposite wall opened onto a view of pouring rain and soggy grounds. A pair of uniformed guards flanked each set of doors. Another door, identical to and directly across from the door he had just exited seemed to be the only other exit from the room. The drab gray of the hallway had given over to a drab green and white color scheme. Several more or less battered chairs and couches formed conversation areas around the room, and Cedric found himself following his escort as she dodged billiard and ping-pong tables on her way to a group of people seated in the center of the area. Cedric was surprised to note that only a few of them were wearing wizards' robes, most of the rest wearing military uniforms. The remaining few wore what he thought might be casual muggle clothes, including a one-armed man (who wore his right sleeve pinned to his shoulder) with a ruined face.

A tall, buxom woman rose and came to meet him, arms outstretched.

"Cedric! Merlin's beard, it really is you!"

Before he knew what was happening, he found himself wrapped in a bone-crushing hug by this strange woman. She seemed to be trying to laugh and cry at the same time, and kept repeating his name over and over. Awkwardly, he allowed a few moments of hugging them gently tried to push away from her.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Cedric hesitated.

The young woman looked a bit nonplussed for a second, then shook herself. "I'm Susan, Cedric, Susan Bones. Of course, you don't recognize me, do you?"

Cedric was saved from having to answer by one of the seated people.

"No, of course not," he snorted. "The last time he saw you, you hadn't even grown any tits yet."

"Justin!" The tall woman, who had identified herself as Susan Bones turned, scandalized. Cedric followed her gaze to see a powerfully-built man with a mop of curly hair who was grinning fiendishly at the two of them. He appeared to be somewhat familiar to the teen, but before Cedric could pursue this thought any further the man stood and extended his hand. Without thinking, Cedric took the hand, which pumped his with a firm grip.

"Ced, old man, smashing to see you again! Justin Finch-Fletchley…although I can't blame you for not knowing us. I was just a snot-nosed runt the last time we spoke, and this one," he paused, ineffectively dodging a smack to his arm from the woman who still had one arm around Cedric's waist, "this one was still waiting to grow into a training bra."

Looking back and forth between them, Cedric tried to process what they had said. Yes, there was something about each of them that looked familiar, but Susan Bones and Justin Finch-Fletchley were both just fourth years, like Harry Potter….

Suddenly, his memories flooded back. "Harry!" he gasped. "I left him…he's back in that cemetery somewhere, we were portkeyed…we have to help him!" Remembering what had happened and where he had left his co-champion, he was now frantic to return. He dropped the man's hand, spun out of the woman's arm and frantically looked around the room. His eyes darted from place to place, seeking an exit from the unfamiliar room back to the graveyard where he and Harry had….

"Cedric! Cedric! Stop it! Harry's not here, he's…a long way away." Susan…if that's who she was…had taken his shoulders in her hands and was shaking him gently. "We'll help Harry, of course we will, but first…."

"But…I don't understand…Harry…he's alone back there…and why am I here?" Cedric was stammering badly, until suddenly he felt a wave of calm wash over him. A small part of his mind noted that one of the other women had a wand out, and he thought that he recognized a mild version of the cheering charm taking effect. He let himself be guided to a seat between Susan and Justin (a part of him noted that the charm made it easier to think of them as such) and he accepted the glass of water that someone had obviously charmed for him.

"A better question might be where-or actually, when—you are, Cedric." Susan Bones spoke gently. "Welcome to the year 2009."

Stunned, Cedric Diggory just stared at her.

A/N: more yet to come, please review. If necessary, I will beg for reviews but that is terribly unattractive so don't let it come to that, k?


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Special bonus chapter to make up for my earlier posting goofs. Also, yes, this IS a time-travel story (which some dummy forgot to put in the summary), as well as a technomancy story, and an AU (Epilogue? What Epilogue?) with implied Dark!Harry (heh heh heh, boy will they be surprised, the author chortled) and a muggle-whipped hetero Draco Malfoy, and, and, and.... Mostly, it's a Cedric and his boyfriend Harry story, written by a hopeless romantic who is still miffed at JKR for killing off our favorite hottie Hufflepuff. This proves that I do not own any part of the franchise, as I wouldn't have killed Cedric. Viktor, maybe; Fleur, definately, but never Cedric. (Bill Weasley could always marry a nice British witch, thank you very much...let Percy marry Gabrielle, maybe...hmm, plot bunny, anyone?). Still not worth suing, sorry, try again.

Anyway, the technomancy and time travel are just plot gimmicks to get around Cedric's death in the last task. At least, that's how I've tried to use them. I hope that you enjoy:

**Chapter Four**

It was several moments before Cedric found his voice.

"I'm sorry…I thought I heard you say 'the year 2009.'" He managed a small smile at himself. "Come again?"

"Cedric, you heard correctly. The year really is 2009." From a seat directly across from the Cedric, a bushy-headed woman spoke briskly. "You were brought here to what is your 'future' from a graveyard at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, for reasons which we will explain to you momentarily. Oh, and I'm Hermione Granger-Weasley, or just Granger, as you may know me...Gryffindor. I was one of Harry's best friends," she concluded.

Cedric nodded briefly, remembering the young girl that had been part of what was known as the 'Golden Trio' of Potter, Granger and Weasley. Except that, apparently this woman claimed to be both Granger and Weasley, which was of course flatly impossible unless—but fourteen year olds couldn't get married, so the only way that she would be a Weasley would be….

….would be if she had married a Weasley. Which could only reasonably have occured if several years actually had passed. Which, of course, would make sense, given that his housemate (current? former?) was claiming that it was 2009. Of course, there was also the fact that Huffelpuffs made it a point of pride to, among other things, never lie to one another. Oh, not that the occasional little fib wasn't thrown about, but lie about something like this? If, as she claimed, she really was Susan Bones, then logically….

Cedric raised one hand to his head and begin rubbing his temple right where a fresh headache was blooming. He was only a bit surprised when Susan chuckled and patted his hand in sympathy.

"Head hurting? Well, I suppose we've certainly given you reason enough for that," she said.

On his other side, Justin Finch-Fletchley drawled. "Oh, I don't know, Susan…just because we've ripped him from his proper era into this Merlin-forsaken time without so much as a 'bye-your-leave'. I can't imagine why he might be a bit overwhelmed." At Cedric's sharp look, he smiled warmly. "Don't worry, old man, we do have our reasons…and, like it or not, we're going to send you right back here in a bit."

All the young man could do was shake his head in confusion. "I'm sorry, I don't understand at all. Is this," he paused, swallowed then continued, "is this really the year 2009?"

All around him, several voices gave their affirmation while heads nodded. "And the reason you brought me here?"

For a moment, no one spoke. Several people looked down at the floor, while others looked at others around them, hesitancy written on their faces. Finally, the woman who had claimed to be (was?) Hermione Granger spoke in a firm voice.

"We brought you here to the future…because we want to change history."

A/N: short, I know, but chopped here just for the gratuitiously pithy cliffhanger.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: wow, hits from all over the planet! Neat-o! Well, such enthusiastic behavior should be rewarded, so I'll be as diligent as possible with my posting. Here's some romantic sweetness, in which the author teases his readers with Cedric/Harry shmoopyness while dealing discretely with the whole "17/14" age difficulty (more about that in the bottom A/N). Of course, our Cedric is a perfect gentleman...duh, he's a 'puff! Still no ownership, still no profits, still armored in the best anti-lawyer defense: abject poverty.

**Chapter Five**

Cedric Diggory regained consciousness with the horrible stench of muggle smelling salts wafting under his nostrils. Jerking away from the strong odor of ammonia he found himself gently restrained by his now-older housemates, Susan Bones and Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"Easy there, Ced, just relax a bit," Justin's voice held a faint touch of merriment. Distantly, Cedric remembered that he had always been quick with a laugh. "Apparently being a Tri-Wizard champion doesn't make you immune to fainting spells."

"Justin, darling, shut up," Susan said quietly. Her tone implied all manner of unpleasantness if she weren't obeyed. "Cedric had a perfectly normal reaction to an overwhelming situation…as if you could do any better."

"Probably not, luv," her former classmate and lover agreed. "Sorry about that, old man…Hermione never was one for subtlety, even when we were in school together, and she hasn't gotten any better over the years."

The former Miss Granger huffed at her old friend. "Really, Justin…I saw no reason to delay telling Cedric why he was here. Perhaps you think that I should have sugar-coated his situation?"

"More like give him a few more moments to catch up with things, Hermione. After all, he has been through rather a lot in the last few subjective hours." For the first time, a tall man in military uniform spoke up. When Cedric's eyes met his, he smiled gently and extended his hand. "Hello Cedric…I'm Neville Longbottom."

By reflex, Cedric took the offered hand and shook it. He was a bit surprised at the strength of the grip, even more surprised at the suspicion that he felt only a fraction of the man's strength. "Uh, hello, er, Neville, uh, sir," he ventured. His mental image of the often hapless young Longbottom was totally at odds with the calm, self-assured man in front of him.

Gentle eyes that had seen far too much smiled back at him. "Just Neville, Cedric. There's no need for the 'sir', not here, between us."

"And no time for it, anyway," came a gravely voice from Cedric's left. Turning, he saw a terribly-scarred, one-armed man nod at him. "Mr. Diggory, you'll excuse me if I don't offer you my hand. My name is Draco Malfoy…and I was in Slytherin."

Cedric stared, unable to help himself. Noticing this, Malfoy chuckled, sounding a bit like boots scraping over gravel.

"Not as pretty as you remember, am I? No, it's alright," he went on as Cedric flushed and looked away. "Look as much as you want…if for no other reason than the way I look now is just one of many reasons that we've done what we've done with you."

"You…you want me to change history…so you won't be so..." he paused, swallowed and continued, "so scarred?"

The part of the mouth not covered in scar tissue quirked up. "That's actually the least of my worries these days, but yes, it's one of my motivations." The man's single hand was taken and held tightly by the attractive young women sitting beside him. Cedric thought he saw the hand squeeze briefly as he continued. "As for the rest of these good people, I think Dame Granger-Weasley should explain a bit further."

"Thank you, Draco," she smiled at Cedric. "Yes, the 'Dame' is real, although I rarely use it…as EARL Malfoy knows." As the teen looked back and forth between them and noticed the snickers of several others, he had the sense of an old joke, often shared. These people all seemed to share an easy camaraderie that was a far cry from the rivalry he would have expected between Gryff and Slyth. With a mental shake, he focused on her words once again.

"…and Miss Sally Darrow-Wright, there by His Lordship Sir Malfoy…."

"Draco."

"Also know as Draco," Hermione smiled as she finished. "And that's our little group, Cedric. Now, as to why you're here…I think I'll let Neville begin."

Neville Longbottom grimaced briefly at his friend then turned his full attention on the young man across from him. "Well, Cedric," he began, then paused, clearly uncomfortable with what he was about to say. "You see, it's like this…we pulled you out of that graveyard before…er, before that situation played itself out, because, um…well, because…we know, from our own history, certain things…"

"…things about you, and Harry…," Hermione interrupted helpfully.

"Exactly, certain things, about you and Harry…that, er, well, led us to believe that…possibly the two of you, that is to say, you and he, er…might have, or perhaps I should say, should have, given the chance…."

"Oh, for the love of Merlin!" Draco's voice grated, interrupting. "Cedric, we know about you and Harry being snogging buddies. There, I've said it!"

Cedric felt his face go intensely red as memories raced across his mind. Harry, blushing yet earnest, telling him about the dragons in the first task. Harry, mortified and confused about being in the room with he, Krum and Delacour after his name was spat out by the Goblet of Fire. A scrawny ickle firstie with a famous name being sorted into Gryffindor. Luminous green eyes beseeching him to believe that he didn't put his name in the Goblet and that he wanted no part of the Tournament. Harry, naked in the prefect's bath, caught listening to his egg by the other Hogwarts champion…embarrassed but predictably brave as they shared the riddle of the second task. Harry, wearing only a towel around his waist, invading Cedric's personal space…and himself, Cedric Diggory, Huffelpuff, somewhere finding Gryffindor's own courage not to flee from the younger boy. Stolen memories of all-to-rare moments together just being close. Talking about everything and nothing, even sex…which, while they never did more than kiss and cuddle, was something that they both decided needed to wait until at least after the Tournament. Harry, laughing at the older boy about 'corrupting his morals'…and Cedric protesting (truthfully) that Harry had been the instigator of their relationship—and Harry, laughing, telling Cedric that it was his own bloody fault for being so sexy and irresistible.

Anger and fear both drove Cedric's response. "I don't know what you think you know, but Harry and I never did anything wrong!" he blurted. Half-rising, he was pulled back down by his former housemates.

Neville made placating gestures with his hands while Hermione and Draco merely looked amused. "Cedric, we know that you and Harry never 'did' anything beyond snogging…."

"Believe me, Scarhead made that clear enough," Draco grated.

"As I was saying," Neville continued with a repressive glance at Draco. "We know about your relationship…and that there were definite lines you refused to cross with Harry."

"Harry always said you were the perfect gentleman, Cedric," Hermione gently broke in. She smiled ruefully, "and he always said that he wished he had just gone ahead and shagged you rotten."

"I…I still don't know…you're talking like Harry and I…it sounds like we broke up, or something." Cedric was trying very hard to make sense of what he was hearing. "Are you telling me that you brought me to the future just so that Harry and I could have another chance together? That seems a bit extreme…."

Now everyone around him looked grim, and once again inspected the floor until Susan spoke, softly.

"Not exactly, Cedric." She sighed as he turned to face her. "You see, Cedric, we had to bring you back from the past…because our history shows that you died that night in that cemetery. And, when you died, Harry lost his first love."

A/N: And here is one of the most difficult things to address in writing Harry/Cedric fics--the age difference. Since Harry is only 14 when Cedric dies, any relationship which starts before the third task requires Cedric to be a cradle robber, bordering on a pedophile. I've chosen to deal with this by severely limiting their intimate interactions, as above...and about 15 chapters from now is a bedroom scene on the night before Harry's fifteenth birthday. Yes, it's already written. Will Harry get what he wants? I'm not telling (I feel sooooooo evil right now *chortle*).

All that being said, a quick perusal of illegitimate birth figures from here in the US will show that many, many heterosexual relationships in the early teens (and younger) do occur, as a matter of documented fact. The author himself, in a former life as a medical student, delivered her first to a thirteen year old (two weeks after her birthday), and greebling number six to an eighteen year old. Many states also allow marriage at age 14, which is just squicky (and my state is one of them--still squicky). Be that as it may, the author neither condones nor supports these relationships between persons of either gender at that age. That of course begs the question: how old is old enough? Guess what? I ain't goin' there...but it AIN'T fourteen.

On the other hand, by the time of the third task, Harry Potter has (a) killed a Dark Lord (b) killed a man posessed by the spirit of said Dark Lord (c) killed a 1000 year old basilisk (d) defeated a soul-fragment shade of said Dark Lord (e) traveled through time to rescue a hippogriff and a condemned murderer (f) wrangled a dragon and (g) fought merepeople. And that's just the HIGH points! So, a fourteen year old Harry Potter has had more and varied life experiences that your average octagenarian--except the intimate, presumably good kind. Still, he's just fourteen...which is why that I have his older, wiser (albeit, sex on legs) boyfriend be the responsible Hufflepuff he is...and keep the damper on things. Sorry, Harry....


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: still no ownership of the franchise, still no profits, still not worth suing. I know this is short, but this is the way it broke. Even short chapters need love too....

**Chapter Six**

"So, you mean I'm dead?" Cedric shook his head. Now, he truly was beginning to doubt his sanity.

"In this time line, yes, I'm afraid," Neville answered. He met Cedric's questioning gaze steadily, nodding at Cedric's raised eyebrow. His entire manner and demeanor radiated certainty, and Cedric felt himself accepting the truth of his statement.

"Well, then…I take it that Harry, at least, survived?" As Neville nodded again, Cedric felt a surge of relief. "Oh, thank Merlin…oh, Harry!" His relief was quickly replaced by a wash of sorrow and grief at the thought of loosing Harry. Fighting tears, he closed his eyes and leaned back into Susan's waiting arms, welcoming their comfort. For several long minutes he was unaware of anything except missing Harry…that, and the thousand and one regrets he now had for things never said and done. After a time, he became aware of Susan's whispered words of comfort and Justin's hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see everyone watching him, most with understanding in their eyes. With a deep breath, he straightened.

"That can't be all there is to it," he said. "People die all the time, and I rather doubt that this is standard procedure. Why me, and why not someone else? Does it have something to do with Harry? Is he alright? Can I see him?" With each sentence, his determination grew. If he and Harry had been separated, then this had to be the reason he had been brought…forward, he supposed was the right word. He'd worry about the details later…right now, he just wanted to find out what was going on, and to see his Harry!

"I'm afraid you're correct, Mr. Diggory. There is more involved here than a schoolboy crush and tragic accident." The speaker, whose name Cedric didn't remember but whose muggle lab coat bore a name tag reading 'Wilson' now addressed him for the first time. "We brought you from the past in order to send you back." He obviously thought that explained more to Cedric than it did, because he paused and waited for a response.

If he expected Cedric to understand, he would have to be disappointed. "I'm afraid that doesn't make any sense," Cedric answered when it appeared that the man in the white coat would say no more.

"What Dr. Wilson means is that we intend to send you back alive, Cedric," Justin helpfully explained.

"Oh, well, that's a relief…I'd much rather be alive than dead," Cedric muttered. "But just what does this all have to do with Harry?" He looked around expectantly, wanting answers.

"I'm afraid that will take a bit of explaining," Hermione stated. When Cedric nodded, she continued. He couldn't help but notice that several others made small gestures or sounds of amusement at her pedantic tone, but didn't comment on it. Apparently something about his being lectured by this woman was amusing to her co-workers. If she noticed, she gave no indication beyond a small sniff, then continued.

"First, let me tell you about a prophecy, and a little boy who once lived in a cupboard under the stairs…."

A/N: next chapter, we start finding out just what happened to turn Harry into a Dark Lord...


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: please see previous disclaimers. For those of you who have been wondering just what happened to make Harry into a Dark Lord, here is where it starts.

**Chapter Seven**

Cedric sat back and considered all that he had heard over the last half hour or so. All things considered, he wasn't sure that he would have wanted to live through what these people had endured these last years. Starting with Harry's returning with his body to Hogwarts, then being reviled in the press for 'lying' about Voldemort's return…he felt his anger flare as he thought about his Harry having to bear that burden alone, ostracized and isolated by wizarding society and his so-called friends. The torture Harry had gone through at Umbridge's hands, being abandoned by Dumbledore, then loosing his godfather to the Veil, all in one year. Then the next year and Malfoy's treachery—explained and apologized for by the man himself, no less!—culminating in Dumbledore's death. Finally, almost an entire year spent looking for horcruxes as the casualties mounted. The final battle, which Harry had somehow survived, only to be once again reviled by wizarding Britain as the next Dark Lord. A stint in Azkaban without a trial at the Minister's insistence, until they were forced to release him to help fight against a new threat.

And such a threat as had never even been imagined! From out of the political cesspool that was the Middle East, both muggle and magical, had come a terrorist group dedicated to the destruction of all of western civilization. Al Queda combined the worst of fanatical wizarding and mundane elements intent on establishing a new "pure" global society based on Islamic teachings and blood purity. They had even incorporated several lesser European Death Eaters who had 'converted' to Islam—no such 'conversion' of their blood purity beliefs was needed, unfortunately, as the wizarding Imams were just as fanatical about blood as Voldemort had ever been on his worst day. Of course, they had no objection to cooperating with the muggles to destroy the Great Satan of America, and really had no use for the Statues of Secrecy either. In their glorious Caliphate that was to come, the Viziers would return to their historical (so they said) positions of prominence and power within the Sultan's court.

In September of 2001, a small group of these fanatics had managed to hijack two muggle airplanes and crash them into New York City's World Trade Center. While some of them had died in these crashes, most of them had managed to portkey to safety at the last moment…right after releasing a large number of bound fire elementals into the Twin Towers.

The resulting conflagration had not only brought down the Towers, but had shredded the Statues of Secrecy on international television. No amount of explanation or mass obliviation could possibly hope to cover up the sight of enraged elementals flying around the tops of the Towers, then dancing in the ruins as they crashed and burned.

The fires burned into the night, until finally a group of American wizards openly used their magic to banish the elementals and extinguish the blaze.

As the confirmed death toll climbed towards three thousand the world convulsed in reaction.

The American government, faced with the incontrovertible evidence of the existence of wizards, initially hailed the group of wizards that had finally intervened to subdue the fires. Then, when they refused to divulge the name of other wizards (for a number of reasons), the authorities first detained them, then used the newly-passed Patriot Act to charge them with conspiracy, domestic terrorism and a dozen other alleged crimes. Predictably, this was not well received either by the wizarding population or large elements of the American citizenry. Some loudly protested against this violation of rights and insisted that magical folk were citizens too; in other areas witch hunts enjoyed a new renaissance. In their zeal to 'fight the war on terror' wizards and witches were variously viewed by the US Government as threats, then as vital resources, then finally (so it seemed to Cedric, after his brief history lesson) as reluctant allies against forces that promised to destroy all that the Americans claimed to hold dear.

In England, of course, things had transpired somewhat differently. The muggle Prime Minister had immediately turned to the Minister for Magic for aid in protecting the country against the terrorist threat. Not surprisingly, Scrimgeour had bungled the job. One of his first responses had been to send a team of Aurors, led by John Dawlish, to Azkaban to offer Harry Potter amnesty on the condition that he work in the Ministry as part of a team charged with 'defeating such elements as would destabilize and destroy the nation'. In point of fact, the conditions were so harsh and restrictive that, according to what Cedric had been told, Harry would have been little more than a leashed attack dog, with Dawlish and Scrimgeour holding a very short leash.

Cedric was surprised to hear that Harry had accepted such an offer. When he had voiced that, all of those present had agreed that it was very un-Harry-ish...but apparently, Harry had had a plan all of his own.

Scrimgeour had even gone so far as to retrieve the Elder Wand from Dumbledore's tomb for Harry's use. While this had been Hermione's suggestion—Harry's own holly and phoenix feather wand had been snapped—Harry had initially been reluctant to use the Elder Wand. However, he had eventually been 'convinced' to use the wand 'for the greater good'…and Scrimgeour was too dense to see the glint in Harry's eye when he finally grasped the Wand for the second and final time.

The next few months passed in a whirlwind for wizarding Britain. The magical community came 'out of the closet', so to speak, with little of the conflict that tore at the fabric of American society. Perhaps the active endorsement of the Queen and Royal Family had something to do with this, as well as the acknowledgement that the Crown and Government had been aware of magical society all along—but had respected the desires of the Magicals to remain private. In many ways, the people of Great Britain (except for certain holdouts, like the Durstley's) took the existence of the magical world existing in parallel to their own in stride. A number of 'cross-over' events and exhibits helped to smooth the way for this acceptance, including a wildly popular magical creature exhibit at the London Zoo.

While hippogryphs and unicorns were quite well received, the Zoo show had been well and truly stolen by the dragon paddocks. Almost overnight, it seemed like every small boy (and many a girl) in Britain wanted to be a dragon tamer when they were grown.

For their contributions to the war against Voldemort, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville and several others were knighted by the Queen. While Hermione refused to say, Draco had hinted to Cedric about a rumor that Her Majesty, upon hearing about Harry's life, triumph over Voldemort and subsequent treatment by 'Her' Ministers for Magic had been outraged, even to the point of offering Harry the position for himself, if he would have it.

Cedric was not at all surprised that Harry had reportedly turned down the post, and only accepted a knighthood and the Potter and Black Lordships after a stern talking-to by the Queen. All that Hermione would say was that, following that meeting, every mention of the Queen caused him to study his shoes and blush furiously.

It seemed that things were going well, until one balmy summer evening. Harry and his minder squad had been responding to a report of possible Death Eater activity in Ipswich when they had been ambushed. A group of Moslem fanatics--most of which were later discovered to have been British citizens--had struck from concealment, without warning. Dawlish and two others had gone down in the first volley of spells and gunfire, and Harry had been seriously wounded. Despite this, he had managed to hold off their attackers until the remainder of his team could portkey out through the anti-apparition wards that had gone up, then he had killed three and neutralized or wounded six more before help had arrived. Harry had hung on just long enough to give a brief report before collapsing.

It was four days later when Harry regained consciousness. In that time, his actions had gone from being called heroic to villainous in the press when it was revealed that he had used lethal force against his attackers—in what the Ministry was calling a 'direct contravention of doctrine and orders'. While the more strident calls for Harry's head had been largely ignored, the Ministry in its infinite wisdom moved to mitigate public opinion by formally reprimanding Harry Potter and promising that heretofore 'he would be more closely supervised' when in the field.

Rather than being surprised by this, Harry had accepted it stoically and without comment. From that day forward, however, he was a different man.

Two months later, when Scrimgeour was attacked during a press conference, Harry showed his true feelings by not casting any spells except tickling charms and _Protego_.

At this point, Draco had gently interrupted Hermione's exposition.

"That's not correct. Potter did cast another spell that day. _Finite_.

After a silent moment, he elaborated. He rasped and wheezed in short sentences, and Cedric noticed that the young woman beside him leaned into him supportively as he talked. If she noticed his disfigurement, she gave no sign of it that Cedric could see.

"Potter cast _Finite_ on me. I was in Diagon Alley that day for the press conference. One of Scrimgeour's flunkies dragged me onto the podium, probably to make everyone think that I backed whatever asinine policy the Minister was announcing that particular day. One of the attackers hit me with the Arabic equivalent of _Corpus Ignitio_ and lit up my day."

He chuckled when his companion smacked him on the shoulder and continued. "I'd be dead now if Potter hadn't done the impossible—again--and dispelled the curse. It's apparently one of their favorites, you see. Not just because it leaves such attractive remains," he flinched from another half-hearted smack, "but because it can't be dispelled."

"But you just said…," Cedric asked, puzzled.

"Harry Potter has been doing the impossible since he was one year old," Draco stated flatly. "And that's why I owe him a life debt…and I'm here now, trying to repay it as best I can." He stopped, and then gestured in Hermione's and Neville's general direction, and the story continued.

Needless to say, the survivors of the attack (of which Scrimgeour was one, thanks to Harry's impervious _Protego_) were not amused. Cedric had been shown a picture of Harry on the front page of the Daily Prophet, all puppy-dog eyes and pouting lips, complaining that he was just trying to follow procedure and not hurt the poor, misunderstood terrorists.

The families of the dead were even less amused than the survivors. Among other things, a flurry of 'wrongful death' torts was brought against Harry. These suits alleged that he could have stopped the attack but did not through 'willful neglect, negligence and malfeasance'. Faced with multiple lawsuits (for the barristers had also named the Ministry in the suits) the Ministry felt that it had no choice but to disavow the errant Mr. Potter and attempt to return him to Azkaban.

The attempt did not go well.

A/N: well, there it is...my own take of how Harry started down the path towards Dark Lord-dom. I realize that some of this is a bit contrived, but I needed to warp canon and history together in a quasi-believable fashion. Hopefully, I did well enough to carry the story, but you'll have to judge that for yourself. Don't quit on me now...


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I apologise for all the exposition, but didn't have much choice. The 'why and hows' of the world that led to Cedric being pulled from the past had to be laid out, and I tried to make it as 'believable' as possible. Bear with me, I do try to keep this kind of thing to a minimum. Don't fear, there's action coming.... And, still no profit, please refer to previous disclaimers.

**Chapter Eight**

To the amazement of absolutely no one who knew him, Harry did not docilely agree to return to Azkaban. The now-recovered Dawlish, leader of the team assigned to re-arrest Harry, was the first to die. A simple _Expelliarmus_ blew him through two walls and embedded his body in a third. The remainder of the team fell to a rapid-fire barrage of _Reductos_, _Sectumsempras_ and _Diffindos_ that left a bloody mess of assorted body parts scattered around the flat where Harry had been living under virtual house arrest. By the time a backup squad could be assembled from reluctant 'volunteers' and arrive on the scene, Harry Potter, his Firebolt, invisibility cloak, trunk and Elder Wand were long gone.

For several weeks, Britain's citizens waited anxiously while their government assured them that everything possible was being done to find and apprehend the 'domestic terrorist' Harry Potter. Those few voices attempting to defend Harry in the press were quickly overwhelmed by those insisting on 'bringing him to justice'. Rumors flew faster than owls: that he was in France, in Germany, in Italy, that he had fled to America or Canada or Australia, that he had gone to ground in Wales (which provoked a flurry of 'Potter sightings', all of which were proven false). There were even reports 'by unnamed persons highly placed in the government' that he had gone to Afghanistan and was actively studying the Koran in preparation for returning to complete the work which his 'compatriots' had begun.

Meanwhile, the world continued to go to hell, taking Great Britain with it.

In the United States, an executive order had created mandatory registration of all magical persons and creatures, with large numbers of wizards and witches being 'volunteered' into a sub-department of the new Department of Homeland Security. This Bureau of Magical Affairs was tasked, among other things, with providing wizarding support to the armed forces and law enforcement agencies. While some resisted this 'witch draft', most found it easier and safer to acquiesce, keep their heads down, and serve their country as best they could. As they did, pressure from Washington quieted the worst of the magic-bashing and witch burnings, although sporadic burnings and lynchings did take place from time to time.

Across Europe things were a bit calmer, in general. The EU had largely followed the British model and openly and actively worked for the integration of wizarding and muggle societies. Few overt episodes of anti-witch activity were reported, and Interpol gratefully accepted the offer of trained magical personal from all countries into their ranks. A number of terrorist cells were unearthed, and no major incidents occurred for almost a year.

In retrospect, it was the quiet before the storm.

In the spring of 2005, a series of murders in and around Birmingham were committed. What caused them to be brought to the attention of the masses were blurred photographs of a black-haired man seen at two of the sites. Those photos and an unidentifiable magic trace were all of the clues that were released to the press.

Almost before the presses could be stopped and restarted, the headlines were screaming about 'Harry Potter's Return!' Reports from so-called 'eyewitnesses' and the inevitable 'unnamed but highly placed government official' fed the flames, and within weeks a national man-hunt was underway for the former Boy-Who-Lived. After several close calls, the officers and Aurors on the case unfortunately got lucky and found him.

This time, there were not so much parts left as a lumpy, bloody paste.

One of the more sensational papers referred to it as the 'Marinara Massacre', and even went so far as to comment on Harry's reported cooking skills.

That was, apparently, the final straw.

Actively pursued by the Government, the Ministry, the press and the terrorists (who were still quite unhappy with him, despite all of the rumors of their supposed cooperation), vilified in the press, hounded at every turn, damned whether he did or didn't, Harry Potter finally seemed to reach his breaking point.

A letter appeared on the PM's desk at Number 10 Downing Street in which Harry Potter proclaimed his innocence in the matter of the Birmingham murders, rejected his knighthood and Lordships and made clear that (a) he acted solely in self-defense, (b) only responded with lethal force after lethal force had been used against him and (c) anyone who attempted to apprehend him in such manner would suffer the same fate as the last group. What was not released to the press was Harry's offer of nonaggression--so long as he was left alone.

That same day, a duplicate of this letter appeared on Her Majesty's correspondence desk, along with a short note of apology in which Harry begged her forgiveness and understanding for what he was afraid would come to pass. This was, unfortunately, not made public for several weeks, and then only at the direct command of Her Majesty.

That evening, the Government declared all-out war on Harry Potter.

A bounty of 10 million pounds was placed on Harry's head, dead or alive. A further bounty of 1 million pounds was offered for information leading to his capture or destruction. Special Auror/SAS combined force squads were formed with a rotating duty schedule arranged so that there were always at least two squads available around the clock to portkey to suspected Potter sightings. Extensive monitoring both muggle and magical was established at all entry and exit points from the British Isles, and a manhunt the likes of which had not been seen since the days of Jack the Ripper was begun.

And then, for weeks, nothing happened. Oh, the combined force squads were deployed any number of times (all false alarms) and 'Harrying'—notifying the authorities of a suspected sighting--became all the rage among certain elements, but nothing concrete was achieved. It probably would have gone on indefinitely until some cretin in the Ministry had the bright idea to bait a trap for the elusive Mr. Potter. Their plan was convoluted, complex and completely asinine…and then they decided to use Ginny Weasley as bait.

Whoever had concocted the plan (it was never revealed just who had been so criminally stupid, so most people assumed that it had been Scrimgeour himself) had felt that using Harry's 'girlfriend' would certainly draw him out of hiding. To crown the plan, Ginny would supposedly be a kidnap victim of Islamic terrorists, which not only was thought to be added inducement for Harry but had the advantage of giving the plotters an obvious means of setting the trap—via the telly.

Cedric couldn't help but snicker when he heard this. His Harry…and Ginny? The girl he loved as a sister? Not bloody likely….

The video tape of a bound, bedraggled Ginny Weasley was shown every hour on the hour on the BBC for a day and a half, while commentators were provided with 'translations' of the terrorist's demands.

No fewer than one hundred highly trained personnel were guarding Ginny at the 'terrorist hideout' where she was being held. Rotating shifts and extra personnel insured that at least forty five were constantly available to respond to any incursion into the area. Anti-apparition, anti-portkey and anti-disillusionment wards were emplaced and backed up by specially adapted infrared imaging gear. Wands and guns were to be kept at the ready at all times, and a number of muggle and magical traps were laid and waiting for Harry's arrival.

No one had planned for the acromantulas.

Or the pixies.

Or the salamanders.

The dragon, unfortunately, had been considered but rejected by the planners as being highly unlikely.

They were wrong.

A/N: don't you just HATE cliffhangers?

Also, here's something that has occurred to me: just who tells the muggle Prime Minister about the existence of magic, and the Ministry? While pondering this, I kept thinking about Helen Mirren's wonderful performance in "The Queen", and the first meeting between the Queen and Tony Blair. Wouldn't it make sense for the existence of the Ministry for Magic to be revealed during this meeting, by the Monarch herself? I keep seeing the scene, where right after She hits the poor guy with the fact that "my first was Winston Churchill", the Queen says, "Oh, by the way, there's a portrait in your office...when it talks to you, We suggest that you listen."

And as the Wise Man said: Reviews are to Authors like Rain to the Desert. The ground is thirsty and drinks every drop--only then can the beautiful flowers bloom.

Next Chapter: There Be Dragons


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: **WARNING!** Character Death, **_not_** a happy chapter. Dragons. The Deathly Hallows (brief mention). Harry goes globally rude with his answer to 9/11. Easily offended Follower of Islam? Probably better skip this one.... Brief explanation of content at end of chapter.

Still no ownership or profit from the franchise, see previous disclaimers.

As always, gracious and/or thoughtful reviews are always welcome. Flamers are snickered at (creative ones) or ignored (usual case).

**Chapter Nine**

The first indication that something had gone wrong was the screaming from the perimeter patrols as the giant spiders overran their positions. Next, a wave of pixies streaked across the wards, homing in on the magical signatures of the wizards waiting to capture the fugitive. Next, more than a dozen fires sprang up at various locations as the salamanders ran across and through the property. Between their incandescent bodies and secondary fires, the infrared gear was rendered useless.

The Welsh Green that crashed into the west wall of the building pulled almost the entire contingent away from Miss Weasley. This left a clear path to his target for the infamous Mr. Potter, who arrived on a Hebridean Black from the east. Unfortunately, two Aurors and a single SAS corporal refused to leave their posts guarding Miss Weasley.

In the resulting exchange, one Auror was stunned; a second fell to a full body bind…and a stray bullet struck Ginny Weasley in the head, killing her instantly.

Harry's scream of rage and denial brought most of the remainder of the force running to him.

Between them, Harry, the dragons and the acromantulas didn't leave much…and the salamanders burned the rest beyond identification.

That afternoon, Harry Potter declared war on Great Britain.

***

"And, Cedric, after almost four years…Harry's winning."

That one statement by Hermione Granger-Weasley had driven home to Cedric the seriousness of the situation these people were facing. Oh, Hermione had gone on to explain, with help from Neville, Draco, Susan, Justin and the others about the Elder Wand and the other two Deathly Hallows…all of which Harry now controlled. Somehow he had managed to repair the Resurrection Stone and unite all the Hallows. Not only had this made him effectively immortal, but he had devised a way to use the Hallows to raise the shades of Wizards and Witches long dead. From these shades (including, Hermione feared, the Founders of Hogwarts) Harry had learned more magic than any other living wizard before draining the shades of their power. Draco had shared his belief that Harry had begun draining the power from living mages prior to killing them, using the Hallows in combination with some of the Darkest rituals and spells he might have found in the Black library. The fact that several Auror's bodies had been found essentially 'sucked dry' of magical energy supported this theory.

But apparently Harry had had other plans as well. Within weeks of Ginny's death he had placed large areas of magical Britain under potent Fidelius charms, declaring to both muggle and wizarding press his intent to once again separate the two worlds. Magical creatures and most magical races quickly disappeared into these parts of the 'New Magic World' as Harry broadcast his willingness to shelter any creature who asked for his protection. The Centaurs, shy and mistrusting of all humans, were the first to go, followed by the Merepeople and Giants. Many werewolves also took advantage of Harry's offers, after a wave of anti-were sentiment swept the country following a small number of biting incidents in Surrey.

The vampires had apparently decided that they liked the current situation just fine, and were quietly moving to consolidate their power in the muggle world. Apparently immortality and civilization went hand in glove for the walking dead. Of course, the fact that a large number of muggles either secretly or openly lusted after the bloodsuckers and what they could offer might have influenced them just a bit.

In a tremendous disappointment to the Government and Ministry, the goblins of Gringotts had steadfastly refused to take any action against Harry and his growing list of allies. Citing numerous Treaties, Acts, Laws and Proclamations, they had claimed a position of strict neutrality. Threats against the goblins were merely met with toothy grins and statements such as 'he who has the gold makes the rules' and 'print all the paper you like, our gold is still gold'. Finally, a single letter to the Chancellor of the Exchequer from the Chief of Gringott's London branch had caused the Government to quickly decide not to bother the Goblins with such a trivial matter as one Harry Potter. The resultant stabilization of the London stock exchange, which had been on the verge of collapse, was felt by one and all to have been an unrelated occurrence.

Things had gone steadily downhill from that time. Apparently, most dragons spoke parseltongue. Also, many of them were not terribly pleased to be confined to their preserves in the hinterlands of Europe. With Harry's promise of safe and secure nesting grounds and his purchase of large tracts of land and livestock to feed them with, he gained the friendship of the magical world's most powerful creatures. Considering that each dragon was more than a match for a muggle heavy tank, proof against all but the heaviest of weapons and highly magic resistant, Harry's army had no lack of heavy units.

What few dared to acknowledge openly was that, in some ways, Harry's War was a godsend to the United Kingdom. His first acts were to find and eliminate several Islamic terrorist cells in England, Scotland and Wales in such a gory and dramatic factor that Al Queda all but abandoned their designs on the British Isles. Harry had then driven the point home on dragon back when he delivered a personal message over Mecca during the Hajj—the annual pilgrimage to the First Holy City of Islam.

In short, the Imams seemed to believe Harry when he told them, in no uncertain terms that "These Islands are MINE!" The complete decimation of the forces sent against him might have helped them to reach this decision…either that, or the score of dragons that hovered over Mecca while Harry made his announcement.

It was not just magical creatures that had flocked to Harry. Promising safety and protection from muggle governments gone wild and a just, balanced and equal society for all, a number of wizards, witches and muggles had moved into Harry's areas. He had placed George Weasley in charge of his Verification process, which asked a series of simple questions of each person while under a truth spell of George's own devising. The amusing fates of those agents which the Ministry and Government had tried to sneak past George's screening were enough to dissuade more than a few attempts. The resulting 'brain drain' both muggle and magical into 'Harry's Lands' had been significant, and in a few areas, almost crippling to the economy of the UK.

In most cases, the spies were free of extra appendages and/or feathers within a few weeks…usually.

And so it had gone. Harry, hidden and well-entrenched, well-supplied and fortified in his protected regions had stood off assault after attempted assault by the Government and the Ministry. He, his human allies and magical friends were proving to be remarkable adroit at being always one step ahead of their adversaries. Thus far, there were no signs that the Government or Ministry was going to defeat Harry any time in the near future.

A/N: Yes, I know this might be disturbing to some, that's why I put the warning at the FIRST of the post...but this version is highly edited from the original, which went over the top with Harry's little visit to Mecca. Of course, that version also had a half-page of the denunciations that would inevitably roll in, but you're all smart boys and girls who can figure out what the response would be. At any rate, the story needed a good reason for Harry to be globally hated (aside from the whole 'come live with me and get away from your buttmunch governments' thing, that is--buttmunch governments REALLY hate that), and this one made the most sense to me. Now, as to the rest: Harry's now lost Cedric AND Ginny, been to Azkaban, etc., etc., so to expect him to be Little Mary Sunshine is a bit much, don't you think? After all, bringing Cedric from the past was a MAJOR undertaking, not a 'oh, it's Thursday and there's nothing on the tube, let's bring Cedric forward in time, shall we?' kind of thing. Now do you understand why various peoples were willing to work so hard and take the risks to try and change the way things were playing out? As a general rule, people don't try to 'fix' the good futures, just the bad ones. 'Nuff said.

Take heart, however...this is ultimately going to have a happy ending.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Finally! And now, the REAL reason Cedric had to be brought forward is revealed. *rubs hands together and chortles in fiendish glee* Warnings for threatened massive planetary destruction....

Anyway, 1000 hits in 22 countries already! You are all wonderful, but would be _more_ wonderful if you reviewed (HINT HINT). Also, thanks for tolerating the first few chapters, I think it's getting better as it goes along. Tell your friends, inflict this fic on your enemies!

See previous chapters for disclaimer, nothings changed.

**Chapter Ten**

"So," Cedric said at last, his head spinning from all that he had heard. "I still don't know why you brought me here."

Shaking his head, he looked at the forlorn and drawn faces around him. "It sounds like Harry's just been defending himself, and now has decided to extend his protection to those who feel they are better off with him than elsewhere. That sounds like Harry to me, all right. What I don't understand is why you would be so opposed to that."

Neville sighed and then spoke with a firm air of authority. "Because it's not that simple, I'm afraid. If it were just that, then an understanding could have been reached months ago. As it is, though…we have reports that Harry has not just been content to stand us off and do nothing else."

Justin spoke up quietly. "We think…we believe that Harry's gone insane, Cedric."

Cedric just snorted. "Harry? Insane? Hardly, from what I've heard he's the sanest one around here."

Justin was shaking his head. "I wish that was the case, Ced, but it's not. We've gotten reports about Harry's behavior, and they're not good."

"He talks to you, Cedric…or rather, your shade…every night. Ginny Weasley, too," Susan added. "He uses the Hallows to summon their…your shades every night, and cries to them."

"He's promising them that he'll bring them back from the dead, Cedric," Hermione said. "We've had information…not only from within his compound, but…other sources…."

"…a 'reliable' pair of Seers, if you can believe that," Draco interjected.

"…that Harry plans to conduct an ancient ritual of Resurrection at the next Equinox." Hermione finished.

"While we don't know much about the nature of this ritual, we do know that it involves a significant blood sacrifice, on the order of thousands of lives." Neville Longbottom's face flushed with anger as he spoke. "Whatever we think of Harry or this war, we can't allow that to continue! I won't allow Harry—or anyone else—to perform such a ritual!"

"And then, there are other concerns," Draco took up the conversation. "There is a significant chance that performing that particular ritual successfully could have catastrophic repercussions beyond just mass murder."

"Other concerns? What repercussions?" Cedric asked, not wanting to believe what he was hearing.

"How familiar are you with muggle history, Cedric?" Hermione asked him. "Specifically, how familiar are you with the volcano named Krakatoa?"

Cedric could only shake his head. Pure-blood born and raised, he could honestly say that he'd never heard of it.

"Krakatoa is a volcano located on the other side of the earth, in Indonesia." When Cedric nodded—he vaguely recalled seeing Indonesia on maps and globes—she continued. "When it last erupted in 1883, it completely destroyed the island around it, killed thousands, cause tsunamis—huge tidal waves—that killed still more, caused waves that were measured here in the English Channel, and dumped enough dust and smoke into the air to lower the temperature of the entire planet by almost a degree and a half. The explosive force was greater than thousands of tons of muggle high explosives, and effectively destroyed all life in an area larger than London."

When Cedric continued to sit, uncomprehending, she went on.

"What I'm trying to tell you, Cedric, is that we have every reason to believe, based on the available evidence from old records, surveys of the site…."

With a rude noise, Draco interrupted. "Cedric, we think that the last time a ritual like Harry wants to do…was actually performed was by an Indonesian wizard…at the top of Mount Krakatoa…on August 26th, 1883."

As a dawning horror crept over Cedric's face, Neville added his opinion. "Yes, Cedric…we believe that Harry will soon attempt to bring you back from the dead. In doing so, he will probably destroy most of England and a goodly portion of Europe as well."

"Oh, bloody hell," was Cedric's only response.

***

"So, let me see if I understand what you're saying," Cedric said. "Your group…all of you," he indicated the seated people around him, "brought me back from the past…where I died…because you think Harry Potter is going to destroy most of England and Europe, while trying to bring me back from the dead?"

Hermione had the grace to look a bit abashed. "Actually, it's worse than that, Cedric. It's not just England and Europe at risk, but Ireland, Iceland, the Azores, the Caribbean, the eastern coast of the Americas…." She stopped when Neville put his hand on her leg.

"A tidal wave like Krakatoa produced would absolutely devastate the Atlantic rim in this hemisphere, Cedric. If that weren't bad enough, the climate changes would be catastrophic. Some models predict another ice age, with literally millions starving or freezing to death. And, the Americans are involved."

Cedric's response to this was to raise one eyebrow questioningly. Justin took this as his cue to carry the explanation.

"Cedric, the Americans have done their own projections about the possible damage to their Eastern Seaboard, and their response was, and I quote 'the President went postal', Merlin only knows what that means. We've basically been given an ultimatum—stop Harry, or else."

Cedric noticed several people shifting uncomfortably at this, but he had to ask. "Or else…what?"

"If we don't provide them with assurances that Harry Potter has been either killed or apprehended within the next few weeks, the United States will 'begin unrestricted military action' against Harry's protected areas."

"But…that would mean they would have to use troops…they'd invade us!" Cedric gasped.

Neville nodded. "And they wouldn't be alone. France and Spain have already pledged their support, and Germany and Italy are expected to come on board." He snorted. "The Irish Republic is screaming bloody murder and doing the next best thing to passing out American flags…they've even offered the Yanks staging areas on their soil."

"It's amazing what the fear of cataclysmic destruction will do a country," Susan said dryly.

Draco had to add his two cents worth. "Even that fool Chavez in Venezuela is quietly supporting the Americans over this…and with good reason. The tsunami Harry would cause would destroy most of his oil industry and infrastructure. He'd loose the oil income that's keeping him afloat."

"He hasn't been very foolish about this, Draco," Hermione chided. "While he can't afford to openly support any move by this American President, given his past stance _vis a vis_ him, just refusing to condemn this action speaks volumes about his position."

"Hermione, darling…don't ever change, whatever happens…" Draco made what might charitably called a smile at his friend, who just mock-glowered back at him.

"So, just to be clear," Cedric spoke up, interrupting the banter between the two. "You brought me to this time, this place because…you want me to stop Harry for you? Right?" He sat a bit straighter, confident that he had finally come to some sort of understanding of the situation.

"Exactly!"

"Well, yes…."

"In a manner of speaking, yes…."

"Not as such, no."

"Yes, but not in the way you might think, Cedric." Ignoring the other responses, Cedric turned to Susan Bones.

"What do you mean, Susan?"

"We want you to stop Harry, yes. Just…not in this time."

"Oh."

"Quite." Susan smiled gently. "You see, Cedric, we don't think that Harry can be stopped at this point. Our best intelligence is that Harry's gone…a bit mad."

"Mad as a hatter and Dark as a mineshaft." Justin added without a trace of humor. "It's more than just crying at your's and Ginny's shades on a regular basis. There've been reports of mass rituals on his lands, blood magic being used, all manner of things. Then, there's the matter of the dead Aurors, magical cores drained away to nothing. Cedric, Harry's absorbed the power of dozens of witches and wizards by now. That, combined with the power of the Hallows…" he shook his head. "Cedric, even if you could get to Harry, what you'd find…wouldn't be the Harry you remembered."

"I can try!" Cedric's eyes blazed. How dare these people speak so about his Harry! They had to be wrong, the Harry Potter he knew and loved—and hadn't that particular bit of self-admission taken weeks to adjust to, to say nothing of how hard it was to actually say the words to Harry…could it have only been a matter of days ago, to him?—Harry Potter could not, would not EVER be a Dark wizard.

His thoughts raced, trying to find the flaw that had to be there in the arguments he had heard, frantically looking for the words that would convince these people of their folly, their mistake. He angrily stood and began pacing, shaking off the hands that tried to calm him.

"You're wrong, all of you! You don't know Harry like I do…just tell me where he is, let me go to him, I'll stop him, you'll see, this is all wrong…." Cedric knew he was babbling, didn't care, didn't want to care, all he wanted was to find Harry, talk with Harry, hold Harry in his arms….

"Damn it to hell, Diggory, control yourself!" Somewhere, Neville had mastered the parade ground voice of a senior noncom. It brought Cedric to a sudden halt. Somewhat softer, but with no less authority, he continued. "You don't have time to get to Harry's location, even assuming that we would allow you to go."

"Time? Oh, that's a good one, Longbottom. It seems to me that time is one thing that I've got plenty of…after all, aren't I supposed to have died fourteen years ago?"

"Cedric, it doesn't work that way," Susan was at his side now, holding his arm. "I don't understand all of the arithmancy involved, you'd have to get Hermione to explain it to you…."

"…better not, mate, it'll just hurt your brain…." Justin put in.

"…but the spells that we used to bring you hear are only good for another hour or so."

"An hour or so? Meaning?" Cedric carefully studied her face, looking for any signs of falsehood. He found none.

"It means, Cedric Diggory, that in an hour, give or take…you go back to whence you came." Hermione's voice held nothing but absolute certainty.

"Well, bugger," was all that Cedric could think of to say.

_**Next Chapter:** _ You know the "Harry gets a wad of money and goes shopping" cliche? Well, you won't get that. You will, however, get my twist on the "if I could go to the future and come back, what would I bring?" cliche. Hysterics, toys, a large sack of galleons...and the Department of Technomagical Integration.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: long chapter, but I promised the Department of Technomagical Integraton. Also, hints about Cedric's relationship with Harry, and toys, toys, toys. Meet Draco's girlfriend (*gasp* she's a Muggle!). Oh, yeah...and a sackfull of galleons, too!

Please see previous disclaimer.

**Chapter Eleven**

The next few minutes passed in a haze for Cedric. In his defense, he had been pulled into the future by an extremely complicated spell, given a crash course in catch-up history and 'current events', found out that his (still underage, although very aggressive and 'I don't care, I love you now, I don't want to wait' despite Cedric's continued insistence on just light snogging) boyfriend had not only defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named but been sent to Azkaban, released, united the three Deathly Hollows, fought his own successful war against international terrorism AND his mother country both muggle and magical and was now threatening to perform an extremely destructive Dark ritual that would (a) bring he, Cedric Diggory back from the dead but unfortunately destroying large chunks of the planet assuming that (b) the United States of America and their NATO allies, supported by most of the nations in the northern hemisphere didn't rain nuclear warheads on said boyfriend's head…and most of England and Scotland in the process.

Cedric was feeling just a bit overwhelmed.

As Surak said: "The cause was sufficient."

Just to make things even more grand and lovely, Cedric wasn't going to be able to do anything at all to stop his (future? past? current?) boyfriend from performing said Dark ritual, etc. etc. because in less than an hour, he would go back to…whence he had come. Back to a graveyard where he had been killed (KILLED!!!!), leaving his (still underage, etc., etc.) boyfriend to face a resurrected Dark Lord and his minions alone…then to return to Hogwarts with his, Cedric's body, only to be accused of his, Cedric's murder.

Cedric snickered. Then, he snickered again. Then, without any warning, he burst out in a combination of laughing, screaming and crying, all at once. He felt himself crumple to the floor, but didn't really care enough to stop.

Dimly, he thought he heard Justin Finch-Fletchley's voice. "Well, that's done it, he's gone mental. I told you this would happen. Merlin knows I would have, in his place."

A wave of enforced calmness washed over Cedric, but he pushed it aside with the absurdity of the situation. A second wave, much more powerful then struck him, leaving him gasping and coughing, curled into a fetal ball.

Draco Malfoy's rasping voice somehow penetrated. "Merlin's beard, help me with him!" Cedric felt a strong hand, then others grab him and sit him up. From somewhere, a moist rag appeared, and he wiped his face gratefully.

"Thanks. I guess I just…lost it, there for a minute."

"Obviously," Malfoy drawled. "Now, if you've finished with your Hufflepuff moment, could we get on with it?"

The Slytherin's insult to his house provoked an automatic reaction from Cedric, who looked up angrily. Then, noticing Draco's half-smile, he realized just what Malfoy had done.

"Good one, Malfoy. It's nice to see that your tongue is as sharp as ever."

"Always and forever, my dear lad, always and forever." He extended his hand, and Cedric took it, pulling himself to his feet. Looking around, he dusted himself off and looked around apologetically.

"Sorry about that…." He didn't continue, but he did see that almost everyone seemed to understand.

"Now…I can't stop Harry right now, because I go back in an hour or less, correct?" Cedric looked around as heads nodded. Hermione looked as if she might say something but, mercifully, did not.

"Well, I can't imagine a Slytherin like Draco Malfoy," he indicated the scarred man with a tilt of his head, "being a part of this without a plan that ensures his own success." He was rewarded with Draco's nod of acknowledgement. "So…might I ask just what that plan might be?"

Cedric looked at Draco, and was not surprised when Draco answered him. "Quite simple, actually…we're going to let you go back…and change history."

"Well, alright then," Cedric said.

He was extremely please with himself for not convulsing with hysterics again, but that was probably just the calming charm.

"So…I'm just to go back and change history? Isn't that…against some law of time, or something?" Cedric scratched his head and tried to remember…hadn't this been covered in Professor Vector's class, something about temporal paradoxes and time travel?

"Well, yes and no," Hermione Granger spoke softly. "Usually, yes, it would be a horrible mess, creating all manner of paradoxes and such, but because of the way we managed to bring you here, it shouldn't be a problem."

"It helps that you're dead, actually," Neville said flatly. Then, realizing what he had just said, he blushed. "Sorry, didn't mean it like that."

Cedric waved it off with a small smile. "I know. As long as it helps. What about going back? You said I was killed by the Avada Kedavra? How am I supposed to survive it? I'm not Harry Potter, you know." His attempts at humor brought out a few small chuckles.

"That will actually be one of the most difficult things, actually. We don't have any way to defeat the AK, but it can be blocked. We're hoping that the temporal flux your transport created will be enough to shield you, but…." Hermione shrugged.

"One word, Cedric: duck." Justin smirked at him.

"That I can do," Cedric smiled back.

"Next, we've prepared a few supplies for you to take back with you." Ignoring Draco's and Justin's snorts, Hermione continued. Reaching into her robe she pulled out a small dark object about the size of a pack of a matchbox. "This is actually not yours, this is…for Harry. You can tell them apart by the initials on the cover." At Cedric's puzzled look, she smiled. "Yes, we've got some presents for Harry, too. You didn't think we'd just send you back empty handed now, did you?"

"Actually, I rather thought that knowing what I know…." Cedric trailed off without finishing the thought. Knowing what he now knew, and not being dead, he'd be able to...do what, he didn't know, except that it involved keeping Harry safe and out of Azkaban. Oh, and from becoming a Dark Lord along the way.

"You thought that just knowing what would happen would be enough to change history? Hardly."

"Not bloody likely."

Draco and Neville snorted together, then looked at each other.

Hermione gave them both a repressing look. "Actually, we can't be totally certain that you'll be able to effect any change in the time stream at all. There are a number of conflicting theories as to what will occur when the spell which brought you forward is reversed. It's possible that you'll be killed to preserve the integrity of the time line, in which case this has all been a waste of time and effort. Alternatively, and just as likely, you will survive going back, in which case your mere presence there—having been here—will be sufficient in and of itself to split another time line off from this one."

"It's also possible that, the moment you go back, this time line will cease to exist," Draco finished, then shrugged at Cedric's horrified look. "Oh, don't look so shocked, Diggory. It's a possibility that we've all been aware of for months now. With few exceptions," and here he looked fondly at the young woman sitting beside him, "this time line has nothing to recommend it. If you can make a better one, then good riddance, I say!"

"Here, here," Justin joined in.

Cedric sat in the silence that followed for a few moments, then spoke softly. "Is it that bad? Here and now, I mean?"

"Not at the moment, no," Susan Bones said softly. "Most of magical Britain has been spared the worst excesses of the last few years, until now. What we're afraid of is what will happen if Harry isn't stopped."

"It's a question of probabilities, isn't it, old man? In one case, Harry is stopped, but large bits of England and Scotland are burned with nuclear fire. The other nations are dead serious about this," Neville said. "I've seen the plans they're making to stop Harry. It's basically a foregone conclusion that conventional forces don't stand a chance against him, even with the best magical aid that the United States and NATO can provide. Oh, they'll try, of course, for forms sake…but the only plans with a significant chance of success include not one, but several strategic nuclear strikes at Harry's most probable locations, all timed to hit simultaneously to maximize the chances of catching him unawares." He shrugged. "Even assuming that they succeed, there won't be much left of Merry Olde England, I'm afraid."

"That's not the end of it," said another tall man who had joined the group while Neville was talking. His accent marked him as American even before he introduced himself. "Tom Blevins, Mage Consultant, Pentagon," he said briskly. "Our best estimates only give us a ninety-odd percent chance of success against Potter. I've been asked to put together a set of back-up plans, in case Potter's magic somehow manages to let him survive. Those scenarios tend to be…not very pretty," he finished with a shake of his head.

Cedric's eyes went wide in his head. He could just imagine…. Harry's temper was something fierce and awesome as a fourteen year old, he could attest to that. As an adult, after an attack like that? There would literally be no end to his anger…or his revenge.

He shook himself, and looked the American in the eye. "Well, then…I'll just have to be sure that Harry never goes down that path, now won't I?"

Blevins gave him a cold stare back. "I certainly hope so, Mr. Diggory. It will be your responsibility to keep Mr. Potter from this course of action…by any means necessary." His voice was absolutely cold as he finished.

Cedric felt his anger rise against the calming charm. "I don't like what you're implying, sir. I won't use 'any means necessary' on Harry…because I won't have to!"

"I don't think you understand just how serious this situation is, Mr. Diggory! The President and the Joint Chiefs are ready to drop the hammer on Potter right now, and the only thing stopping them is the hope that this little group of magicians can pull off a miracle before…."

"Enough," Neville's parade ground voice was back. "That's enough, both of you. Mr. Blevins, you've made your point. Cedric, you need to understand just how seriously we are taking this attempt. We Can…Not…Afford…To…Fail! Do you understand?" Longbottom pounded his fist into his hand for emphasis as he spoke.

Cedric nodded dumbly. Once again he felt the cheering charm that someone had cast on him buoy his emotions. He was beginning to see the enormity of what this group of people had done. When he considered just how much was riding on their efforts, the audacity of it all—it was absolutely staggering!

"So…I'll just have to make sure that I don't fail, won't I?" Cedric set himself, then continued. "Hermione, I believe that you had something to show me?"

Dame Granger-Weasley looked relieved that the conversation had turned back to a more productive track. "Yes, Cedric, and thank you. First of all, I apologize for not having more time to familiarize you with the equipment we're going to be giving you, but there are a set of instructions in each pack. This," she said, holding up the small object she had previously shown him, "is a miniaturized wizard's trunk that holds most of what we'll be providing you…and Harry, of course."

"Of course," Cedric agreed, smiling. "Thank you for thinking of Harry, by the way. I'd hate to come back from the future without something for him."

Hermione's smile lit up her face. "Oh, we couldn't do that! As I was saying, this is actually for Harry, and is basically identical to the one we'll be giving you here shortly. Among other things, each trunk has nine components, all wizarding space. One of the first things that you and Harry need to do is to adjust the wards on them so that only you two and no one else--no matter how much my former self complains, do you understand?--can open them." She cocked her head to one side and added wryly, "I suppose that also goes for Ron, as well. Now that I think about it, I wouldn't even tell Ron about Harry's trunk, other than that it's new. I love him dearly, but he always was terribly jealous of Harry."

Cedric nodded in understanding. While he didn't know the Weasley boy well, Harry had shared with him some of the issues that simmered between them. Of course, Harry had also known Cedric well enough to make Cedric promise not to have a little 'conversation' with said Weasley about his treatment of Harry, trading shamelessly on Cedric's Hufflepuff nature.

Hermione continued at Cedric's nod. "Each trunk has all of the standard spells, of course…security, shrinking, feather-light, levitation on command…but we've added an extra feature. Once the trunks are personalized to you and Harry, you can either shrink them back down like this," she held the small trunk up a bit more, "or, you can have it change so that it looks like a muggle suitcase…with wheels and an pull handle, no less!"

"That was my idea," Susan put in. "I thought that it might come in handy, if you and Harry are traveling in muggle areas."

Cedric nodded thoughtfully. He and Harry had indeed talked, once or twice, about traveling in the muggle world. There was just so much that he as a pureblood and Harry, raised by 'evil muggles', had never seen.

"There were some arguments about what to put into the trunks, Cedric." Neville spoke with authority. "Some wanted to fill them up with spell books," he rolled his eyes in Hermione's direction, "or potion components and cauldrons," another roll towards Draco, "or dragon hide battle armor, or exotic weapons, or muggle-adapted weapons…."

"I can still get you a dozen shoulder-launched missiles," the Pentagon man spoke up helpfully. Not knowing how to respond, Cedric just smiled weakly.

"In the end, there wasn't a lot that we wound up putting in the trunks, mostly because most of what we wanted to send back with you wouldn't travel well through time, even packed away in a wizard's trunk. So, we just put a large sack of galleons inside the first compartment of each trunk. Then, we went a little crazy." Hermione smiled and turned to a nondescript young man on the outskirts of the group. "Jonas, if you will?" She beckoned him over.

"Mr. Diggory, I'm Jonas Bartelby, Department of Technomagical Integration in the Ministry. How do you do?" the young man extended his hand, giving Cedric a brief, somewhat limp shake. "First, I need to ask…have you ever used a computer before?"

"Com…puter? No, I can't say that I have, sorry," Cedric replied.

Bartelby gave a small, poorly concealed sigh. "Well, at least we're not giving him a PC," he said, half to himself. Then he visibly gathered himself, took a deep breath, and pulled a charcoal gray object from the black bag at his side. Sliding it across the small table between them, he sat back, obviously waiting for Cedric to do something with it.

Confused, Cedric just looked at it. "That's a…computer, I believe you called it? What does it do?" He looked up expectantly, but made no move to touch it. After a moment Bartelby sighed, did something with his fingers along the front of the device and opened it, turning it to face the young man. Cedric found himself looking at a dark screen and what looked like the keyboard of a muggle typewriter. He couldn't be sure, as his only experience with such things had been while visiting an eccentric aunt with a fascination with muggle devices, but he did notice the rows of buttons, each with a letter or some other symbol painted on them.

"This is for all intents and purposes a Powerbook five forty cee," he heard Bartelby speaking to him. At his confused look, he smiled. "It's a kind of computer, a computational device similar to an abacus, only much more advanced." At Cedric's nod—like most other wizards, he was familiar with using an abacus to do sums—Bartelby continued.

"It was actually introduced by an American company in 1994, to great acclaim. We felt that it would be the best option for you to have, since it would actually fit in with the time period that you came from".

The Ministry man was interrupted by Susan Bones. "Don't worry, Ced…it's actually NOT a temporally accurate device, it just looks like one." She smiled as he saw his forehead begin to furrow in worry. "Oh, if anyone but you…or Harry…happens to get their hands on it, it will easily pass for the 'real' item, but we've made a few modifications inside to give you every advantage that we can."

"We stripped out the guts of the thing and replaced them with bleeding edge components, Mr. Diggory, sir." The man from the…Technomagical Integration Department, was that it?...continued as if Cedric actually was able to follow what he was saying. "It has a three point two gig quad-core processor with twelve megs of el-two catch, eight gigs of de-de-are three ram, and two one twenty eight gig solid state drives in raid zero configuration…not to mention a full gig of gee-de-de-are three video ram, a nineteen twenty by twelve hundred high rez screen and full wi-fi and blue tooth capabilities." He smiled at a now thoroughly confused Cedric Diggory as if he had just presented Cedric with a brand-new Firebolt.

Fortunately, Hufflepuff reflexes came into play, and Susan Bones reached out and took Cedric's hand. She squeezed gently in a gesture of support before translating for him out of futuristic geek-speak.

"What he means, Cedric, is that it's very powerful, more powerful and faster than anything else that you'll encounter when we return you." At his only slightly less puzzled look, she smiled. "You see, we wanted to send you back with every 'edge' that we could think of, and by now, we're all so used to using these muggle devices that…."

"…that we've built you the best modern toy that we could, and then made another one for you to give to Potter." Draco interrupted with a rasp. "Don't worry, Diggory, there's an instruction book in the bag and you'll catch on quickly. The important thing to know is that this computer," he waved to the device "is not just a glorified abacus. It also stores information that you can 'pull up' and study at your leisure. Sally, would you, please?" Draco's voice had been growing steadily rougher as he handed off his part of the presentation to the young lady at his side. Cedric noticed that she helped him drink from a silver flask she retrieved from one of Draco's inner pockets, and then replaced it before she turned to him. From the lack of reaction by the others, he deduced that this was not an uncommon thing for them to see.

"Mr. Diggory, I'm Sally Darrow-Wright, Earl Malfoy's personal assistant," she said. Ignoring Draco's 'harrumph' at her description of herself, she went on. "We've adjusted your Powerbooks—that's what these computers are called—so that they can travel through time inside the specially shielded bags that we've packed into your trunks. This," she gestured toward the unit on the table before him, "is a demonstration model, identical to those you'll find in the first compartment of the trunks."

"With the large sack of galleons?" Cedric asked, smiling. She was obviously muggle, and just as obviously more than just Malfoy's 'assistant'.

"Indeed." The young lady smiled back. "As you've been told, there is a detailed instruction book inside of each computer's carry bag, as well as a list of the contents of the hard discs, a sleeve of DVD's, and a pair of flash drives…."

"Just a moment. Hard disk? Dee vee, er, dees? Flashes?" Cedric interrupted.

"A part of the computer where data…information is stored, a muggle way of storing information on shiny silver saucer-like things, and…well, information storage that plugs into slots on the computer," Bartelby supplied.

"Cedric, what you need to know about the computer is in the instruction book. You and Harry will be able to figure it out, I'm sure." Hermione reassured him. "The really important thing to know is what we've packed onto those drives and discs."

Cedric could recognize a cue when he heard one. "Oh?"

A/N: Next Chapter: What's on the discs, the problem of blood wards...and how Hermione REALLY feels about Dumbledore.

Reviews feed the plot bunnies...but of course, you knew that.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: as promised, Hermione tells how she really feels about Dumbledore, the problem with blood wards, and just what is on those mysterious discs.

Please see previous disclaimer.

**Chapter Twelve**

"_Cedric, what you need to know about the computer is in the instruction book. You and Harry will be able to figure it out, I'm sure." Hermione reassured him. "The really important thing to know is what we've packed onto those drives and discs."_

_Cedric could recognize a cue when he heard one. "Oh?"_

Hermione looked like her face would split in two with her smile. "There's more information in that one bag than in twenty Hogwarts libraries! Every spell book, grimoire, tome and scroll we've been able to lay our hands on has been scanned, digitized, filed, labeled and cross-referenced for easy searchability…." She noticed that Cedric's eyes were starting to glaze over. "Let's just say…each of these computers is a complete magical library, designed to be easy to use by a relative novice…like you or Harry. If there's a spell known to Western civilization, it's there, ready for you to use it. There are even video files showing how to properly make the correct wand motions for the more difficult spells."

"There's a comprehensive potions section, as well," Susan added. "Also three different astrology programs, an arithmancy calculator, herbology database, muggle reference works, and both muggle and wizarding travel guides with suggestions for the best places to buy dragon hide battle armor, staves, unregistered and customized wands in England, Europe, Australia, and the Americas. There are also sections on selected wizarding areas of Egypt, India, Hong Kong, Singapore, Japan and New Zealand."

"Er…impressive, I suppose," Cedric said. It sounded a bit as if they could just send one of these little monsters back to Harry and forget about one Cedric Diggory.

"I tried to get them to include a sex manual or three, but I figure you and Potter can work that out for yourselves, eh, Ced?" Justin was already moving away as he laughed out the last.

"Oi! It's not like that and you know it!" Cedric protested.

"Justin! Stop being such a berk!" Susan rebuked him with a threatened smack, making him mock-cower in fear.

"Sorry, Susan love, but someone needed to say it, might as well 'ave been me." Justin slid back beside Cedric just in time to catch a thump to the arm. "Ow! I hope you don't treat Harry like that."

"Harry's not a complete, total and utter prat like you apparently grew up to be," Cedric replied calmly, turning back to study the computer. "You say that there's a library of information hidden in each of these things, and that we can get to that information easily?" Not knowing exactly who would be answering, he looked around the room as he asked.

Several heads nodded in answer to his question.

"Well, that will be helpful, whatever happens. And, I'm sure that Harry and I can figure out how to use them?" It was a question that, again, several heads nodded in answer to. "All right…now, where do we say that these came from? Obviously, Harry and I just can't pull them out of thin air without some sort of explanation."

"Japan."

Cedric had the impression that Miss Darrow-Wright had just barely beaten Hermione in answering him. When he looked at her, she continued.

"You bought…or will buy, sorry…them in Japan, one for you and one for Harry. Since they were introduced a few months before the last task of the Tri-Wizard, that's a temporally appropriate answer. Also, there is so little contact between wizarding Britain and Japan that the chances of anyone knowing any differently are very slight."

"That assumes that I will be traveling to Japan in the near future," Cedric replied. Somehow he suspected that there was an answer for that, too.

"Ideally, you and Harry will both be traveling together," Neville responded. "That's going to be one of the first hurdles you have to overcome. If possible, you and Harry--with your family, of course--will 'use your Tri-Wizard winnings' to travel over the summer, seeing the sights of the 'exotic Orient'. That would easily explain the muggle electronic devices we're going to be providing you." Cedric nodded, noting but not commenting on the plural 'devices'…obviously, there was going to be more in those bags than just a computer. He listened carefully as Longbottom continued.

"Unfortunately, the main obstacle to this little jaunt is going to be Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore? The Headmaster? Why him?" Cedric was genuinely shocked. Never had he imagined having to go against the venerable Hogwarts Headmaster.

"Because he's a manipulative, interfering, controlling, daft old coot who has always been willing to sacrifice Harry…and anyone else, at need…for his idea of the 'greater good', that's why. Oh, and he reads minds without so much as a 'by your leave', so don't look him in the eye until you and Harry both master Occulomency." Hermione spat.

"Well, that about sums it up," Draco put in with a gravely laugh.

"Hermione, please," Neville chided. Turning back to Cedric, he took up the explanation.

"Dumbledore will do everything in his power to force Harry to spend the first part of the summer with his muggle relatives. You know about them, right?"

Cedric murmured a soft affirmation. He knew that Harry wasn't happy there, and he suspected that there were reason's beyond Harry's vague 'we don't get along'.

Hermione was looking at him shrewdly. "He hasn't told you about them, has he? No, he wouldn't, not Harry," she answered herself. "Cedric, what you need to know is that the Durstley's are absolutely horrible to Harry, and have been all of his life. They starve and abuse him, both mentally and physically. That deprivation and abuse is the main reason that Harry's so small."

Well, of course, that made sense. Cedric fitted that with what he already knew from Harry, and suddenly a number of things fell into place. Harry's scrawny, underfed stature, many odd scars, reluctance to speak about his childhood or home life…and he, Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff extraordinaire, had let his feisty young boyfriend divert, dismiss and dissemble to keep him from finding out the truth! Well, when he got his hands on that little Gryffindor, he would….

He would see to it that Harry never, ever had to endure that situation again, by Helga's garters! Clenching his jaw, he interrupted Hermione without thinking.

"So, how do I keep Harry away from his relatives? I'm sure that you've got an answer for me…short of kidnapping him myself, or killing Dumbledore, that is." From his tone, Cedric wouldn't have minded doing either just then.

"Dumbles will rattle on about some supposed 'blood wards' at Harry's relatives that keep him safe from You-Know-Who," Susan told him quickly. At Cedric's skeptical look, she nodded. "I know, you know, even the Gryffindors know that blood wards like that would collapse under his relatives' feelings for him within hours, forget about lasting for years. It's all a complete fabrication by Dumbles, probably to keep Harry beaten down and easily controllable. So, what you have to do is to come up with an acceptable rationale to satisfy Dumbles AND get Harry away from there. Oh, and then there's the Dementors, too," she finished.

"Dementors?" Cedric squeaked.

"Oh, did we forget to mention that, in our time, Harry was attacked at his relatives' home by Dementors during the summer after the Tri-Wizard? Despite Dumbledore's oh-so-necessary-and-powerful blood wards? And that Harry was tried before the Wizengamot for underage magic use after he defended himself and his cousin from said Dementors? Silly us," Susan laughed.

"Not funny, Susan. Don't play with young Cedric; just tell him about the ritual." For the first time, Justin Finch-Fletchley sounded serious.

"Dementors first, then blood rituals." Susan patted Cedric's arm reassuringly. "Don't worry about the Dementors, Harry can cast a corporeal Patronus spell…as long as you give him some happy memories," her eyes sparkled as Cedric blushed. "At any rate, if things go according to plan, you won't be in Little Whinging to worry about the Dementors. You see, we've found a relatively simple ritual that will convince Dumbledore that his precious blood wards are being maintained without Harry actually having to be there."

Cedric smiled in anticipation. "And I'll find this ritual?" he asked.

Susan returned his smile. "It's in a book in the restricted section of Hogwarts library called Blood, Body and Spirit: Rituals of Self-Magick. The ritual is called _Sangeous Substitutia Somaetia_, and uses a small vial of Harry's blood as a replacement for his actual presence. The beauty of this particular ritual is that once the vial is anchored to the wards, removing the vial from inside the wards destroys the vial, the blood, the wards, and most likely the person removing the vial! It's a perfect solution, and Dumbles won't be able to argue against it…especially with your father arguing with you."

Cedric's grin widened at this last. Yes, his father would be arguing with him on this one. Already a Harry Potter fan like most of the wizarding world, Amos Diggory had gone through a brief period of what Cedric called 'Harry-itis', being angry at Harry for 'cheating' to enter the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

It had only taken Cedric one rather heated 'discussion' with his father to convince the elder Diggory that Cedric had no such illusions and that he, Cedric, had only the highest admiration for Harry Potter and would not tolerate any disrespect of the young Mr. Potter in his, Cedric's, presence. He had then informed his father that he fully intended to ask Mr. Harry Potter to spend a part of his summer hols at Diggory House, regardless of the outcome of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Furthermore, as a guest of Cedric's, Harry Potter was to be accorded the same courtesy and consideration as any other guest of the family Diggory…or he, Cedric Diggory would find another home to call his own.

If his father was surprised at the…vehemence of Cedric's defense of Harry Potter, he gave no sign of it. However, he did cease his derogatory and degrading comments about young Potter.

As Cedric's smile morphed into a smirk at the end-flight he was going to make around the Headmaster, he heard Susan saying, "oh, and don't worry about remembering the exact book and ritual, Cedric. If you forget it, it's on a parchment that I put…."

"In the instruction book, I know, I know." Cedric's smirk was full-blown now, and he was gratified to hear several of the others chuckling with him.

A/N: _ **Next Chapter**--more toys, and it's NOT a flying carpet! It's an aerial mobile wizarding domicile based on a faux-Persian chassis. Got it?_


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Toys, toys, toys...and it's NOT a flying carpet. A _**shout-out!**_ to Andalusia, Alabama, just because...and Draco's girlfriend. How cool is THAT?

On another note, thanks for your interest...scads of hits from 20+ countries, woo hoo! Want a _**shout-out!**_ to your country? Then review (and include said country in the review). And, for all you who have been reviewing, you are all WONDERFUL (but I'm still waiting for chocolate, what's up with that?).

Same old disclaimer, see previous.

**Chapter Thirteen**

The next few minutes were a whirlwind of strange devices and the repeated chorus of 'it's in the instruction book', which Justin had taken to singing loudly and badly off-key. The group had produced and briefly introduced Cedric to a number of muggle devices, all (like the computer) heavily modified with something that they kept calling 'bleeding edge tech'. After the third time, Cedric gave up looking for the blood, then asked, then had it explained to him that it was a muggle expression meaning "more than the cutting edge, the very latest available…much better than anything you'd get back in the mid-90's." All of these devices were spelled to have effectively infinite lives, drawing their power from the intrinsic magic field of high-magic areas or from muggle electricity via 'power cables'…that were, once more, 'in the bag'. To go with the computers were not only 'data discs' and 'drives' but also two printers (one for him, one for Harry) with magically ever-full ink 'cartridges' (whatever they might be). Hermione once again pointed out that, while this would enable him to reproduce the tremendous amount of magical information in the machine, he and Harry should use this sparingly…and Harry was NOT to use it to do his homework for him!

This set off a minor argument about the virtues of 'word processing' versus quill and parchment, with Hermione conceding the superiority of the former over the latter but pointing out that neither Harry nor Cedric were touch typists. The end result of this was that an aid was sent out to find a copy of something called 'Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing' and given no more than fifteen minutes to return.

Also there was a matched set of something called a pee-dee-aae, which he was told was short for Personal Digital Assistant, or Newton. He was still working on that one as Bartelby pointed out several 'bleeding edge' features that would only be seen by Cedric or Harry…a color screen, voice recognition, a small but very powerful spell library, ability to take in data from their computers and store it for ready access, and a built-in link between Harry's device and his, perfect for sending secret messages back and forth undetectably. This led to a brief mention of something called 'blue tooth', and the magical equivalent that would let him communicate with Harry via their computers essentially anywhere in the world. The Global Positioning System in their Newtons would let Cedric and Harry find each other anywhere in the world in seconds, and the permanent portkey built into the matching watches would let them travel to one another instantly, across huge distances (but don't try it across the Pacific unless you're planning on swimming the last few hundred miles, understand?).

Cedric assured Bartelby that he would warn Harry of that particular limitation as soon as possible.

A pair of muggle cellular phones, magically linked and powered, completed the list of gadgets that he was going to return with, and Cedric found himself being profoundly grateful for shrinking charms. He was beginning to worry about the time, and when he asked, Justin just smiled at him.

"We're almost done, old man, and I've saved the best for last. Come with me!"

Cedric rose and followed, his curiosity piqued. All this, and they saved the best? Merlin's greasy beard, what could it be?

Cedric followed Justin to a door in the back wall of the building. Opening the door with a flourish, Justin waved the bemused teen through. In what appeared to be a largish storeroom, a camping tent—very much like those he had seen at the World Cup—was standing on a large Persian rug. Cedric stopped at the edge of the rug and just peered into the open tent flap. As he had suspected, the small view of the interior he had showed a rather opulent sitting room.

"A wizarding tent, then? This is your 'best saved for last', Justin? I must confess I'm a bit disappointed. I don't even see a bleeding edge or anything." Cedric turned, his hands on his hips, trying to control his snickers.

"Har har har, very funny, mate," Justin sniffed. "Just you wait. Mr. Blevins, since this is your contribution, would you care to take over?" Justin waved the American forward.

"I'd be happy to. Mr. Diggory, are you familiar with recreational vehicles at all?"

Cedric could only shake his head. He had gone to the World Cup, of course, and before that a camping trip with his family in the Midlands, but both times he had traveled by portkey and used a regular wizarding tent. He really couldn't see how you would need a special vehicle just to recreate, but supposed that it might be some kind of muggle-inspired concept.

Blevins didn't appear fazed by his lack of knowledge. "What you see before you appears to be nothing more than a standard Jetstream Wanderer 2000, produced by the Jetstream Wizarding Vehicle Company of Andalusia, Alabama between 1985 and 1998. It features a twelve by twenty foot faux Persian chassis with an eight by twelve foot external footprint Trailmaster Deluxe portable wizarding residence permanently affixed to the rearmost portion of the chassis. As you can see," he said, walking around the tent, "this design occupies the entire rearmost portion of the chassis with no extra space…thus allowing for the maximum amount of available frontage while minimizing drag and wind resistance. It has the added advantage of having no ledge space to the sides or rear for hostiles to land on." He paused for a moment to see if Cedric was still listening.

"Excuse me, but…is this a flying carpet?" Cedric asked.

"Actually, the manufacturer prefers that it be referred to as a 'faux-Persian chassis'…as you know, the importation of flying carpets into Britain is illegal, but the ownership of an aerial-capable mobile domicile slash recreational vehicle is not." Mr. Blevins answered quite smugly.

"So…it's not a flying carpet?"

"Oh, hush, Cedric, of course it's a bleeding flying carpet, but the tent on the thing makes it legal, alright? Just work with us here…." Justin was, Cedric thought, enjoying himself far too much with this part.

"So…it flies? And has a tent? And it's legal?"

"Yes, yes, and yes. You should have no trouble with the wizarding authorities, especially since they hopefully won't know that you've got it." Cedric had to hand it to the American…he certainly seemed to have all of the answers.

"So…and I have to ask this, you understand…why are you giving me a flying carpet with a tent on it?"

Blevins was not the only one who sighed, but everyone else seemed to be content to let him continue. "It's not a flying carpet…it's an aerial-capable mobile domicile…."

"Yes, yes, I get that part, it's a…whatever, it's NOT a bloody flying carpet with a tent stuck to it. What I still don't understand is…why? The computers and all the other gadgets, well, I can see that they might be dead useful, what with all of the spells you've loaded into them, but this…?" The Hufflepuff just stood there, looking confused and waiting for something approaching a reasonable explanation.

"Don't you understand, Mr. Diggory?" Sally Darrow-Wright had come up behind him, and she gently took his arm.

"It's just Cedric, please, miss."

"Then I'm Sally." She smiled brilliantly, and Cedric Diggory suddenly realized that Draco Malfoy was a very, very lucky man indeed.

"Sally…pleased to meet you, by the way."

"Likewise, Cedric, likewise." Her smile widened just a bit more, then fell into a look of concern. "Don't you see? They're giving you this…flying tent thingy…as a fallback plan."

"Fallback plan…as in…?"

"As in, everything goes pear-shaped and you have to grab Harry and run for it."

"Oh…I see." And he did. Cedric suddenly saw the wisdom, and even the necessity, of having something like this tucked away in one of those marvelous trunks. If things were truly bollixed up, he and Harry could…."

"We've added a few extra features that you need to be aware of, Mr. Diggory," Blevins was continuing. "As with all of your little 'presents', the complete instructions will be in your bag, with a duplicate set inside the secretary's desk just to the right as you enter," he gestured to the tent flap. "If you'll step this way, please," and he led Cedric, Sally and the others into the tent, "you'll see that this is a standard two bedroom, two and a half bath deluxe apartment with sauna, steam room, great room, kitchen and sun porch. The bedrooms, with their attached baths, are to either side," and he indicated two open doors to the right and left, "while the kitchen and sun porch are in the back left and center, respectively. The sauna and steam room are located at the right rear, and they connect directly to the bath of the right-side bedroom, thus making the right-side bedroom the master and the left side room the guest suite. The laundry and utility rooms are between the guest bath and the kitchen, on the left. All fairly standard…I believe you spent some time in something similar at the Quidditch World Cup this past summer, Mr. Diggory?"

Cedric smiled and nodded, glad for once to be familiar with something these people were showing him.

"The modifications we've made to the interior of the space have been fairly modest. The kitchen pantry is stocked with sufficient supplies to feed four adults for approximately six months—four more months than is standard, I believe—and the water storage and recycling facilities have been upgraded from two to twelve months capacity." He paused and smiled. "I've been told you can thank some of our boys at NASA for that one…and expect to see some of that same technology incorporated into a Mars mission…if we ever get that far." He paused, thinking. "You shouldn't have to do anything more than have a regular wizarding tent facility service the water tanks and sump…I don't think there's a need for any special servicing. At any rate, the climate controls are all fairly standard as well, except that we've beefed them up." He turned to face Cedric and grinned. "The boys in R & D claim that you can take this thing to either pole or the deepest equatorial jungle for the full six months without any problems…but I'll leave that up to your judgment."

Cedric nodded. Somehow, he just didn't see spending six months in either the deep jungle or at the North or South Pole…even with Harry.

"Now, for what you can't see." Blevins looked like he wanted to rub his hands together, but was restraining himself. "The usual top speed for one of these models is a respectable one hundred fifty miles and hour…but we've managed to push that up to almost four hundred miles an hour, or a bit over six hundred and forty kilometers per hour. The wind screens over the frontage and tent proper have been similarly increased, so that you won't feel much more than a gentle breeze at those speeds. We've also tripled the strength of the cushioning and anti-crash charms, just in case you bump into anything at those speeds. Rain, sleet, snow and all other weather protection charms, the same."

"So, mate, if you want to sunbathe nude at the North Pole, make sure you stay on the carpet. Otherwise, you'll freeze your bits off, and Harry wouldn't like that!" Justin laughed.

Cedric chose not to dignify that comment with a reply. Instead, he merely gave Justin an evil look. Not surprisingly, it had no effect of Justin's grin.

"Now, if you'll step over here," Blevins went to an area just inside the opening. "This is your master plotting and control station."

Sitting at what appeared to be a normal writing desk, the Pentagon consultant reached out and spun a small model globe. Immediately, the area above the desk lit up with a map of the world which moved as he moved the globe.

"Simple controls, really…pull the globe toward you, zoom out; push the globe away, zoom in. The 'X'"--he pointed to a large glowing 'X'--"on the map moves as you move the globe, see?" To demonstrate, he spun the globe up, down and to either side. The 'X' obediently tracked his movements on the map. "Now, you can set one or more target points on the map by pushing this button on top of the globe here," he indicated a small knob on top of the armature, just above where the north pole should have been, "and then set your parameters…speed, average height during flight, landing or hovering, alarm sound upon arrival, continue on after alarm, and so forth…by moving the cursor 'X' and clicking…"

"Almost like on the computer!" Cedric burst out, suddenly understanding.

The American looked up, both startled and pleased. "Exactly! I told you you'd catch on quick. Now, let's step outside," rising, he ducked out of the tent flap, "so that I can imprint you onto the exterior control panel. Walking to the front of the carpet, he tapped his foot twice at the base of a golden circle in the pattern. Silently, a brass dial, mounted on a brass pedestal rose from the pattern to about waist height on the man.

"Mr. Diggory, if you please…" Blevins waved Cedric over, took his hand and pressed it flat against the surface of the dial. Cedric felt a tiny pricking, then shuddered as a wave of disorientation swept over him. When it passed, he felt fine. He recognized that something had just imprinted his magical signature….

"The carpet? Excuse me, faux-Persian mobile aerial domicile…?" he asked.

The American chuckled. "The carpet, yes. You'll need to do the same thing with Harry Potter at some time in the future…that is, assuming you want him to be able to drive this thing, too."

"I don't think I could keep him from it," Cedric replied, smiling back.

"Good. Oh, and there are two chairs woven into the carpet right behind this steering yoke, just tap their patterns and they'll come up…and the yoke is adjustable for comfort."

"Brilliant." Of all the things he had seen, Cedric was finding this the most exciting. Brooms were all well and good, but more than a few klicks on one was a chore…and in winter, forget it!

"Oh, just a few more things. I don't know if you know much about flying carpets," and here Cedric had to shake his head in response to the implied question, "but you can't fall off, there are railing charms that prevent it. Also, the carpet has an integral chameleon charm, so if you're camping in muggle areas it looks like the ground. There are the usual notice-me-not, disillusionment and invisibility charms, anti-theft and privacy charms…and the carpet is fireproof and comes with a built-in fire pit and barbeque area right here," he pointed with his toe.

Looking up, the American sobered. "Lastly, we've added some charm work that is not only experimental in this time but probably illegal as well. This baby packs a full suite of stealth, anti-radar, anti-detection, evasion and protection charms. If you ever get in a bad place, or want to go to ground for a few weeks or months…this is the vehicle to do it in. Just don't get caught…."

Cedric nodded in understanding. "I'll do my best."

"Fine. Now, one last thing. In case everything goes down the tubes, you have one final option…the turtle switch."

"Turtle…switch?"

Blevins nodded somberly. "It's a last ditch defense mechanism. Should you be attacked and not be able to escape, you and Mr. Potter…and up to four other people, at need…get into the tent, and then either you or Potter have to yell out the phrase 'Turtle up!' three times. That will trigger the carpet to wrap around the tent, much like a turtle's shell, hermetically sealing you in until you release it…the command is 'Turtle out!' three times. While you are inside the tent in turtle mode, you're protected from extreme heat, cold, fire, water, vacuum, gases, radiation, lasers, high velocity impacts and smallish nuclear detonations. Nothing in, nothing out…including any way to see or hear what's going on outside, understand? You'll have to use your own judgment about when to come out, because you'll have no idea just what you might be walking into when you do."

Cedric could just nod dumbly at this.

"Great, there's more. The turtle mode triggers powerful notice-me-not and invisibility charms, in addition to the regular charms. As far as the outside world is concerned, you've just vanished off the face of the earth, and can stay that way as long as the air holds out…figure two people, six months; six people, two months. Again, thank the NASA crowd, they did the work. This will only work for you or Potter after you've been attuned to the rig, so get him attuned ASAP. Understand?"

Once again, Cedric nodded.

"Good enough. Now, I think that Lord Malfoy has a few final things to show you." Turning, the American shooed everyone off of the carpet, checked to be sure that everyone was out of the tent, stepped off himself and touched a button marked "collapse" on the front of the steering yoke. In a series of fluid movements, the tent collapsed flat, the carpet folded itself neatly and then shrunk itself. Within a few seconds, Blevins reached down and picked up a shiny brass cylinder about a foot long and two inches in diameter. With a flourish, he presented it to Cedric.

"Your Jetstream Wanderer 2000, sir," he said.

Cedric grinned and bowed, taking the surprisingly light weight cylinder. "Thank you, sir."

Laughing, they followed the last of the others back to the main room to see the Lord Malfoy. Then, Cedric thought, I'm off to change history.

**A/N: _Next Chapter:_ ** Draco's story, in which the Slytherin Prince finds true lurve...and gets smacked upside the head. ** HETERO ALERT! _WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP!_** A secret Malfoy vault, and the number of Lucius' bookie ("What, a wizard can't play the ponies?"). Plus, if Hermione is providing Cedric with every spell known to the Western Wizarding World...what do you think Draco's contribution will be? *insert evil snickers here*


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Hetero relationship warning! Draco's contribution to The Bag, and a Slytherin's advice. Long chapter, I know, but it just didn't break down--so make sure you all personally complain in your reviews, okay? (hint: that was a shameless and yet thinly veiled plea for reviews) The spell is winding down, it won't be long now.... Plus, a little surprise at the end of the chapter!

See previous disclaimer.

**Chapter Fourteen**

Draco Malfoy, Earl Sir Draco Malfoy to some, waited impatiently for Cedric to return. Every few minutes he would glance at the clock on the wall, counting down the few remaining minutes until his spell would collapse and send Cedric Diggory back to face an uncertain, new future. Oh, there had been others involved in bringing young Diggory back, of course—Sally not least among them—but the leader of the spell casting team, the nexus of the ritual, that had been one Draco Malfoy. He could still feel the residual traces of the spell lingering in his magical core, draining his magic to keep Cedric here. He only hoped that, if this dimension were to continue to exist when Cedric returned, he had enough left for just a few more days with Sally. That would be enough, he thought, just a few more days. Then he didn't care whether he lived or died…as long as he could be certain that Sally would be safe. Perhaps if he sent her to Australia…there wouldn't be any significant tsunami damage there, or fallout from the nuclear strike against Harry. And, he could easily have the goblins transfer what was left of the Malfoy fortune to the Sidney branch of Gringott's. Sally would never want for anything; neither would her children or grandchildren.

He snorted at his own maudlin foolishness. Imagine! Draco Malfoy, former Prince of Slytherin and Foil of Gryffindorks everywhere, pureblood poster boy and muggle-hater _extraordinaire_…head over heels, completely and totally in love with a muggle woman. And, not only in love with her, but willing to send her away to protect her, even though it would cost him his only chance at love. Oh yes, how the mighty had fallen…and Draco Malfoy cursed himself for not falling like this years ago.

Draco could still feel both of his arms, and both of his feet. 'Phantom limb syndrome', they'd called it at St. Mungo's. Tragic, and quite untreatable, terribly sorry…just like they had been so sorry, Lord Malfoy, because of the nature of the curse that hit you we won't be able to regrow your limbs. Or remove your scars. Or make you look human again. You should be thankful to be alive, after all. Had it not been for Harry Potter…

Potter. Harry bloody effing Potter. And owed a life debt, of all things, by what remained of Draco Malfoy. Truly, the Fates had been saving up for the last of the Malfoys.

And that, all in all, was that. He was, indeed the last of the Malfoys. The curse which had burned off his left arm and foot had also removed most of what made him a man, as well. Or at least put enough scarring on him that he was certain no woman would ever agree to bed him this side of an Imperius. Until, of course, he met Sally.

It had been a bitter, almost suicidal man (but, of course, Malfoy's don't do suicide) who had been walking the streets of muggle London that day, secure in the knowledge that the muggles wouldn't even notice the glamours he had to wear to appear human. A pinned-up sleeve was one thing; even dashing, properly carried. The ruin of his face was another matter all together. Diagon Alley was right out, as far as Draco was concerned. Every way he turned, he could feel the witches and wizards noticing him, feeling the ebb and flow of cosmetic magic around him, recognizing him for who and what he was. Only in the muggle areas did he feel comfortable, and if that wasn't a supreme irony he didn't know what would be.

The first indication he had that something was wrong was just a feeling. A little niggling sensation in the back of his mind, some extra sense learned along the way that someone, somewhere close by was about to do something nasty. A useful trait to have for a Malfoy and a Slytherin, especially in a world dominated by overly righteous Gryffindors. Cautiously, he had slipped his wand into his hand, keeping it concealed close to his body while he dropped into a seat at a sidewalk café. He had just ordered tea and scones when he noticed the truck moving slowly down the street.

Later, he would not be able to recall just what set off his internal alarms. As best as he could remember, he had stood, shouted a warning, and cast the strongest shield charm he could over himself and several other patrons at the café, making sure to cover a mother and her infant as best he could.

Then the truck exploded.

It was only the single explosion, but for Draco Malfoy it was the war against Voldemort all over again. Thankfully, his shield charm had protected those café patrons behind him from the worst of the blast, but several of them were still injured. Without thinking, his wand was out and he was casting healing spells left and right, lifting his head between each charm to scan the area for further threats. He had just finished putting a bone-mending charm on the young mother's wrist when his warning to her not to use it for another several hours was interrupted by a soft voice.

"She really needs a splint on that wrist…I can make her one if you can hold the baby."

Draco had turned and shrugged. "I'm sorry," he said. For some reason, he had been polite, almost shy rather than snapping at the fool muggle as he might have. "My arm," he said, turning his shoulder to show the pinned sleeve as an explanation. "I've only the one arm…." He trailed off, hoping the bright-eyed woman holding the child would take a hint.

No such luck. In a calm, much too reasonable voice she said, "Well, put your stick in your pocket, sit down and then you can rest him on your lap while I take care of his mother."

Years later, Draco still had no idea why he had done as the young woman suggested. Oh, he hadn't put his wand (muttering "it's not a stick") in his pocket, but laid it on the table within easy reach. Before he knew it, he had a lapful of drippy infant smearing its secretions all over the front of his Savile Row suit, grabbing at his lapels with its pudgy hands and cooing at him while he sat, helpless. Meanwhile, his bright-eyed tormenter was briskly improvising a wrist splint from a newspaper, a disposable nappy and a spare infant jumper. Draco found himself so mesmerized by her creativity that he didn't notice the infant in his lap going for his wand until it was too late. Horrified, Draco watched the little delinquent rub his hawthorn beauty all over its face, coating said wand with mucus, saliva and Merlin only knew what else! Of course, with one arm he risked dropping the now-giggling brat if he retrieved his property, but still! He was just gathering himself to make the attempt—perhaps if he moved quickly enough—when little Miss Bright Eyes came, scooped up the little monster and returned it to its pram.

"My wand!" slipped out before Draco had the first thought. Then, realizing just what he'd done, he tried to cover up his gaffe. "Er, I mean, my wallet! I've lost my wallet!"

Bright Eyes paused in settling the baby in the stroller and gently pried his wand from the desperate clutches of infancy. The smile on her face was blinding as she turned back to Draco. "I can't help you with your wallet, sir, but I believe this is yours." Before she returned it, she took an errant napkin and wiped the worst of the goo from his wand. "I understand that you folk are quite touchy about your…wands."

Blushing furiously, Draco retrieved his most prized possession. "Thank you, Miss…?" Well, he could always obliviate her later, he supposed.

"Sally…Sally Darrow-Wright, sir. And you would be?"

"Draco…Draco Malfoy."

"Ah, well then, many thanks to you, Wizard Malfoy, for holding the baby." With another quick smile, she turned from a gobsmacked Draco to finish securing the wiggling baby. For a moment, Draco was speechless, then he was busy fielding the thanks of the nearby patrons for his quick thinking, and finishing up healing what he could of the injuries.

A part of his mind kept insisting that he'd be going to Azkaban for this, despite knowing full well that the Statues of Secrecy had been effectively shredded months before.

The rest of Draco basked in the glow of being acknowledged and effusively thanked for being, of all things, helpful to his fellow man. It was a unique and all too pleasant sensation.

And so, for the next several hours, Draco and Sally Darrow-Wright—who, he learned, had been trained as an Army medic—worked with the emergency responders to clear debris, locate the wounded, heal minor wounds and triage the more serious to various muggle hospitals. The pair fell into a natural, easy working relationship. Draco did the wand work, and Sally was the able pair of hands that he could no longer be. When one medic snarled a comment about 'burnin' 'em at the stake, not workin' with 'em', a suddenly enraged Sally was in his face. She didn't seem to be in the mood to spare any words as she informed the man that Draco had saved lives and healed the injured while he was still sitting on his fat arse drinking tea in the station so he could sodding well shut his trap. When the stunned medic had attempted to rally by accusing Draco of 'hiding behind the bird's skirt', Sally's backhand slap had knocked him sprawling…just in time for a supervisor to appear and take the shaken medic away for a talking to.

Draco had never seen anything so beautiful in his life as the enraged, dust-covered woman who had spun on him with a snarled "What?" When he realized that he was snickering at Sally's handling of the medic, he quickly schooled his features into a blank mask.

"Nothing, Miss…I didn't say anything…but thank you for your words."

Sally had merely 'humphed', muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'men' and led him to the next pile of rubble.

Later that day, as evening began to fall, Draco found himself filthy, exhausted and totally unwilling to leave the young woman's side. After a hurried exchange of numbers (yes, Draco Malfoy had a cell phone…after all, he wasn't his father) the two agreed to meet for dinner that evening, after they had each gone for a quick shower and change.

Dinner had gone well, and the two parted with plans to see each other the next day for lunch. Lunch led to another dinner, which led to another lunch, and before the end of the week Draco Malfoy was forced to admit to himself that he was dating a muggle and probably already madly in love with her.

The shock of this realization made lunch conversation particularly difficult that day. He knew that he needed to break the relationship off immediately, before either of them had a chance to develop any more feelings for the other, but he just couldn't.

Sally, bless her, was reading him like a book. With characteristic bluntness, she confronted him and forced him to admit that he was hiding something from her. When he mentioned 'scars', she just shrugged and said that she figured as much…the lack of an arm was a dead giveaway. Draco's attempts to graciously tell her that his scars might be a bit worse led to Sally's dragging him back to her flat for a viewing of said scars.

When Draco dropped the glamour concealing his face, Sally had just looked at him carefully and said, "Fine. Now, strip, I want to see how far they go."

Draco still didn't know how she had managed it but a few minutes later he was standing mother-naked in the center of Sally's living room while she circled him. An expressionless face and practiced eye surveyed the wreck of his body in its entirety before she came to stand in front of him at last.

"So…that's it, then? No more magic makeup to take off?" she demanded.

Draco shook his head dumbly, too embarrassed and ashamed to speak.

"Well, then…I don't know what you're all torn up about, me Lord," she grinned wickedly. "After all, you've still got all the little boy bits. I wonder if they might be interested in plain old me?"

And then, she kissed him with such ferocity that the two of them tumbled onto her divan, his prosthetic foot skittering across the floor.

It was some time later before they bothered to look for it.

***

Much later, when they had both acknowledged that they were seriously dating, Draco had worked up the courage to ask her just why she was wasting her time with him, when she could have any man she wanted.

Sally had smacked him upside the head and swung a leg over his waist to straddle him as they sat there on the divan.

"Because, me Lordship Earl Sir Mush-for-brains, I don't want just any man…I want you, you horrible prat. Don't ask me again." And then she had smacked him once more for good measure before kissing him senseless.

Draco, not being totally stupid, had never asked again.

***

Now, Draco Malfoy was comfortable with the fact that he was madly in love with a muggle. He was even seriously contemplating asking said muggle to become the next Lady Malfoy, mother of his heirs. Had it not been for their involvement in this project, with all of the uncertainty that came with it, he probably would already have asked Sally to make an honest man out of him. Sitting there waiting for Cedric to be shown his flying love nest (as Sally had called it), Draco smiled. Certainly he could afford something similar and the trip to the United States to purchase the beast—much less the flight back home in the thing—might make an excellent honeymoon. And, now that he thought about it, why hurry back to England? The project would be over, one way or another, here in a few minutes. As far as he knew, neither he nor Sally had anything to keep them in the UK, and with things the way they were…why not?

Smiling, Draco made a decision. Yes, this evening…he'd ask Sally to be his bride. They'd worry about rings and other silly details later. But, where to take her? Someplace elegant, certainly, and private…hmm, how about….

Draco snapped out of his musing when Sally slide down beside him.

"Oi, Malfoy, spill it. What's going through that evil Slytherin brain of yours?"

Draco looked back, doing his best to put an appropriately evil glint in his eye. "I was just pondering where to take you for dinner tonight," he grated out.

"Hmmm…planning on getting me drunk then having your wicked way with me?" From the way she was leering, Draco got the idea that it wasn't going to be Sally who was wickedly had that evening.

"Alas, found out! All my plans, brought to naught! I guess we'll just have to order take-away."

"Mmm, all the better, it'll save time that way," Sally smirked.

Draco was saved from having to come up with a suitable rejoinder by the group's return. "Later, love," he murmured before turning to the approaching Cedric Diggory.

When Cedric was seated, Draco turned to him.

"Alright, Diggory…we don't have much time remaining, so you'll excuse me if this is brief. First, put these in your pockets." Draco handed over two identical shrunken trunks, which Cedric carefully put away.

"Next, you'll need this," Draco extended a small gold key towards the teen. With a curious look, Cedric took the key from him.

"Is this what I think this is?" he asked.

"If you think it's a Gringott's key, you're right," Draco answered. He was pleased to note that Cedric's eyes widened.

"That," Draco indicated, "is a key to an unlabeled vault in the Paris Gringott's branch." He gestured for Cedric to put the key away as he continued. "I'd suggest you not loose that, as there are between 200,000 and 250,000 galleons in that vault. You won't have to show any identification beyond that key. It's one of several vaults that my father established 'just in case' during the first Voldemort war, and as far as we've been able to determine it has been untouched ever since. I realize that money isn't everything," he said, giving significant looks at several of the group, "but it IS power, and influence, and several other things that you'll need to protect Potter from the Ministry, Dumbledore and the Dark Lord."

Draco sighed before he continued. "I know you'll think I'm just being Slytherin when I say this, but _trust no one_! Especially the person you know as Mad-Eye Moody, the DADA professor. He's really a polyjuiced Death Eater named Barty Crouch, Jr.—and the reason the third task ended in a portkey straight to the Dark Lord."

Cedric gasped in shock. How could a Death Eater get into Hogwarts, past all of the Ministry security, not to mention Dumbledore…?

Draco seemed to be reading his thoughts. "He's been impersonating Mad-Eye all year long, tweaking the tasks behind the scenes to insure that Potter wound up victorious in the third task. If Potter hadn't been such a Gryffindor, he would have snatched the cup and been portkeyed out alone, leaving you behind. Of course, if he'd done that, we wouldn't be here right now, would we?" Draco broke off, coughing, and gratefully accepted a drink that Sally offered him from his flask before he went on.

"At any rate, you'll be returning to your time a fraction of a second after you left…close enough that no one should notice the difference. We think—hope—that the temporal spell distortion will deflect the AK, allowing you to survive. In case it doesn't, then I'd suggest that you dodge." He shrugged. "Best we can do, I'm afraid. At least this time you won't be caught flat-footed…we hope." Another swig from the flask, and then he smiled.

"Let's assume that you manage to survive the AK. You'll be in a graveyard with Potter and Wormtail…Peter Pettigrew, and a homunculus of the Dark Lord."

"Pettigrew? He killed Harry's parents and framed his godfather for it!" Cedric burst out.

Draco nodded. "So you know about Pettigrew, and Sirius Black, eh?" When Cedric gave a single nod, Draco continued. "Good. I suppose Potter told you about Black being framed, then? Well, it's true. At any rate, Pettigrew will use Potter's blood to resurrect the Dark Lord, and then he and Potter will duel in front of a group of Death Eaters. You must…not…be…seen until after the duel, do you understand?" Draco spat out this last, pinning Cedric with his eyes until Cedric nodded his assent. "The Dark Lord will forbid his Death Eaters from attacking Potter, but he would put them on you in a second. You wouldn't stand a chance."

When Cedric moved to object, Draco waved him down. "Be realistic, man! There will be at least a dozen adult wizards there, each of them darker than you can imagine. The first time around you fell to an AK from the weakest of the lot…how do you think you'd fare against those odds? No," the scarred man continued, "your only chance is to 'play dead' until the duel ends, then _Accio_ Potter and the portkey-cup and get the hell out of there! I know your Hufflepuff instincts will be to charge to Potter's aid, but you'll only get yourself killed. And, we all know just how that turned out, don't we?"

Cedric sat there, the emotional storm he was feeling making him quiver visibly. "So…I'm just to lie there while Harry duels He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Until the duel ends, yes."

"But…how will I know…how can Harry…I don't see…." Cedric didn't even know where to begin asking questions.

"You'll know it's almost over when you see a dome of magic form over Potter and the Dark Lord," Draco explained. "The effect is called _prior incatatem_, and will occur because both Potter's and the Dark Lord's wands have a phoenix feather core from the same phoenix. While I'm thinking about it, something that you and Potter need to do as soon as you can is either have his wand altered or get him another wand made. I put a small booklet into your bag with the names of several shops in England and on the Continent where you can get this done with no questions asked." Draco's face twisted into what Cedric was learning was the current version of his old smirk. "Get Potter a better wand, and for Merlin's sake do something about his wardrobe. He's the sodding Boy-Who-Lived, not some Knockturn Alley urchin."

At this, Cedric laughed. "I've tried, you know. He can be remarkable stubborn, you know."

"Humph. How well I do," Draco agreed, taking another sip. "So, Potter duels the Dark Moron, you get Potter and the cup portkeys you both back to Hogwarts. Now, be prepared for no one to believe you about the Dark Lord's return. You'll probably have to use pensieved memories to prove your statements, but that'll be several days in coming, I think. Fudge especially will be dead-set on insisting that Voldemort can't have returned, and he will do everything in his power to destroy Potter's reputation…and yours, by extension, since you'll be there with him this time…to try to make the public disbelieve anything you say." Draco stopped, took a deep breath and pinned Cedric with an intense look.

"You'll have the money, which will buy the influence, to counter Fudge. I leave it up to you just how much you share with your father…or Potter, for that matter, although I'm guessing that he'll have the whole sordid truth out of you inside of a day…about the 'gifts' you'll be coming back with, and just where you got them, and why. Your father has a good reputation both inside and outside the Ministry; I suggest that you use it. Oh, and your Tri-Wizard winnings will make a good excuse for having the coin to take Potter on a tour of parts unknown over the summer; no need to let others know just how many galleons you have in your trunk, after all."

Cedric took a deep breath, thinking furiously. "So…Harry and I return to Hogwarts by portkey, then…immediately try to convince Fudge that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned?"

"No, I wouldn't," Draco answered. "The first priority is Potter's safety, and if events play out as they did in this reality, as soon as you get back the faux Mad-Eye Moody will try to get Potter alone, probably back in his quarters at the castle. You need to do whatever is necessary to stop that, and unmask the imposter. You'll find the real Moody locked in his own wizard's trunk in the last compartment. Oh, and Fudge will try to have the fake Mad-Eye kissed to prevent him giving testimony about the Dark Lord's return. If you can prevent that somehow, you can probably get Dumbledore to have Crouch Jr. questioned by the Wizengamot under veritiserum. That will, among other things, give support to Potter while turning up the pressure on Fudge. If you're lucky, you might be able to force Fudge out, but that might be a mixed blessing." At Cedric's questioning look, Draco chuckled. "Fudge is so easily controlled that having him retained as Minister might ultimately work in your favor…but by then, I hope that things are so different from this time line as to make any predictions we'd make worthless."

"That's about the best advice that I can give you. Check your bag; I put some other things in there for you. On parchment, written with a quill, not on some 'disc'. There's a list of wand makers, as I said; a list of 'who's bribing whom' in the ministry—that one I did from memory, take it with a grain of salt—several good solicitors and a couple of reliable barristers, and an investment house you need to open an account with." Noticing Cedric's wide eyes, he grinned. "The money in your trunks and the Paris vault are just for the next year or so, Diggory. Remember, money is the next best thing to real power, and Potter is loaded. Or, rather, he will be, when he comes into his inheritance. His godfather, Sirius Black, is even richer…and one of your little summer projects has to be getting his name cleared so he can come out of hiding. If you think you can buy off enough of the Wizengamot to guarantee a trial, have Black testify under veritiserum, otherwise…" he shrugged. "Use your own judgment. Also, you'll need a good investment house because one of the files on those lovely little computers of yours is a record of selected stocks, investment opportunities and muggle and wizarding sporting event scores for the next fourteen years…along with the number of my father's bookie."

Noticing the shocked looks from all directions, Draco just tried to look innocent. "What? A wizard can't play the ponies?" Taking Sally's smack stoically, he went on. "Just beware of something called the 'Butterfly Effect'…the longer you're back, the less accurate that information will be. Best to use it soon, before it becomes useless."

Cedric didn't even pretend to understand what butterflies had to do with betting, but he was willing to take Draco's word for it. Presumably, a more complete explanation was, like so many other things, in his bag. So much for a summer without homework….

"Another few things, and I'm done. We've talked about it, and we all agree," Draco said, and Hermione, Neville and the others nodded. "In addition to being close to Harry over the summer, you need to be at Hogwarts at least for one more year, preferably three. Now, we don't want you failing your NEWTS, or anything frankly stupid like that." Here, Draco gave a gimlet eye to Justin, who had the grace to blush and look ashamed. "However, it is a well known fact that some students, from time to time, have been known to stay at Hogwarts to begin work on a Mastery in some subject. You're particularly interested in Charms, aren't you?" Draco asked Cedric.

Caught off guard by the change in subject, Cedric gave himself a small shake. "Oh, yes…yes, I suppose so."

Draco grinned like a shark after a guppy. "Good. You get along well enough with old Flitwick, I take it?" When Cedric nodded, Draco leaned back in his seat. "Well, then! There you are. I don't think you'll have much trouble convincing Flitwick to take you on for at least a year or two, especially if you offer to pay your way and compensate him for his time. If you have to, grease him with a few of the charms from your little bag there. If he doesn't wet himself over some of the things Hermione's put in there, I'm not a wizard! Worst case scenario, he's probably the only Professor other than Snape that I'd trust with the entire truth of the matter."

"Snape?" Cedric jerked back at the mention of the Potion Master's name. "But…he hates Harry! He's the last one I'd ever tell. Flitwick, alright, he's never been anything but fair, but not Snape!"

Seeing how badly Cedric was taking the greasy professor's name, Hermione jumped in. "Cedric, there are things about Snape that we didn't find out until much later…but eventually, he wound up helping us destroy Voldemort, and paid for it with his life."

"I still can't believe it…not with the way he's always treated Harry, and anyone else who wasn't in Slytherin."

"I never said he didn't have issues, Cedric," Draco went on, "but I'm not going to insist. In fact, the fewer people who know the 'truth', the better. Especially Dumbledore…I wouldn't tell Dumbledore for all the gold in Gringott's."

"He might not be able to keep it from the old coot, you know," a quiet voice drawled from the door. Seeing the people across from him gasp, Cedric stood and whirled to see….

"Harry!"

A/N: OMG! Cliffy, much? Didn't see that one coming, did ya? *insert evil snickers here* Now...how long should I wait for to post the next chapter? Couple of days? Week(s)? More? Your reviews will determine your fate, don't you see.... *maniacal laughter*.

_**Next Chapter:**_ heh heh heh I'm NOT telling, that would be CHEATING!!!!!


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Surprise! Guess who just showed up? Ready for the big fight scene of Harry against Everybody? Well, here we go!

See...all of those of you who reviewed, you got your wish, several hours early even!

See previous disclaimer

**Chapter Fifteen**

Harry Potter stood just inside the open doors, petrified guards to either side of him. Outside of the building, the large bulk of a dragon rustled its wings as it settled. Cedric found himself unable to move, and from what he could see from the corner of his eyes the entire room was frozen.

The last time Cedric had seen Harry Potter, he had been a slightly build teenager, still learning to use his magic and struggling with puberty. Now, he was not much taller, but was a vibrant, lithe young man in his physical prime. Gone were the horrid glasses, and his emerald eyes sparkled brightly in a care-worn face. His trademark hair now sported a shock of white among the black tresses that spilled down his back, and the windblown look was reinforced by the blush on his face. He was dressed head to toe in black leather of some kind that molded to his muscular frame like a second skin, and the soles of his boots made no sound as he strode toward the group. His shimmering invisibility cloak was thrown over one shoulder, clasped over his leather traveling robes. Cedric noticed that his robes swirled and billowed around him as he walked in a way that would have made Snape froth with envy. The Resurrection Stone ring adorned one finger, while the Head of House rings of Potter and Black were his only other jewelry. He held the Elder Wand casually in his hand, and as Cedric watched he slipped it into a holster strapped to his left arm.

With the ease of long practice, Harry gathered his hair in his hands and tied it back with a leather thong.

"I'm sorry about the petrifaction, everyone, but I couldn't risk Cedric getting hurt in any kind of crossfire. You've all gone to so much trouble to bring him here, I'd hate for us to have a repeat of the Ginny incident." His voice was soft but seemed to ring in the absolute quite of the room.

Cedric felt himself loosing his balance and caught himself with a jerk. Somehow, he immediately knew that Harry had released him and him alone from his immobility. His heart was pounding, but despite all that he had heard he couldn't find it in himself to be afraid. This was Harry…but a Harry that he had never had a change to know….

"Hullo, Cedric." Harry had stopped several feet away from him.

"Hullo, Harry."

"Long time."

"Not for me."

"Yeah, guess not." Harry sighed. "You look…the same."

"You look…wonderful." Cedric felt himself blush as soon as the words left his mouth, but they were exactly what he felt. He had always been a moth drawn to Harry's flame, but this Harry…this Harry was a blowtorch.

Cedric felt Harry's power raise a breeze around them when he smiled. "Not as good as you." Power pressed against him as Harry stepped forward, but he held his ground.

"So, Cedric…I'm all growed up now…don't I get a kiss?" Harry's voice was impossibly soft, husky with desire. Before Cedric could think, he and Harry were in each other's arms, kissing furiously. Magic swirled and danced around them, shaking the building around them until finally, breathlessly, they broke apart. Immediately, Harry dove for Cedric's chest, tucking his head under his boyfriend's chin and squeezing him with all his strength.

Cedric searched for his voice, found it.

"Wow."

From somewhere around his breastbone, he heard a voice sob.

"Yeah."

***

Cedric and Harry just stood there for a minute, each thinking his own thoughts. When Cedric felt Harry shift, he pulled back and allowed the smaller man to back away from him.

"Well, I'll say this…I never thought that they'd manage to pull it off. I was afraid they were going to open a temporal vortex that would destroy most of the planet." Harry grinned a grin that Cedric knew all too well, the one that said, 'okay, I'm an idiot but I'm a happy idiot'.

"Prat! They've just been telling me about how YOU were going to destroy the country, if not the whole bleeding planet, with some half-arsed ritual to bring me back from the dead." Without thinking, Cedric Diggory smacked the world's most powerful wizard on the head.

"Ow! Now who's the prat?" Harry rubbed his head and pouted. "And you believed them?"

"Well, er…you see…." Cedric had the good grace to look at his shoes in embarrassment.

"Berk. Hermione told you that, didn't she?" Harry scowled, ignoring the fact that the lady herself was only a few feet away, petrified but well able to hear him.

"Yeah. Well, she did most of it, but the others helped, you see," Cedric shrugged.

Still scowling, Harry sighed. "Let me guess, it went something like this: Harry's gone mad, or Dark, or both; Dark Rituals, Deathly Hallows, big volcano with tidal waves, 'End Of The World'," he made quotation marks in the air with his fingers, "all because he's pining away for his lost love and will never love again without him, ya ya…did I leave anything out?"

"Um…no?" Cedric attempted a small smile. "They did make it sound rather convincing, you know."

"Pffft. It should have been…Merlin knows that all that disinformation cost somebody a pretty galleon." Harry leaned back and perched on a chair back. "Cedric, I do use the Hallows to speak with the shades of dead wizards, and I have talked with you…and Ginny…a few times. However," he raised his hand, "I swear on my magic that I am not planning, nor will I attempt any necromantic ritual to actually raise the dead."

Cedric felt the magic stir at Harry's statement, and nodded. "But…what they told me…."

"What they told you is actually a complete pack of lies, half-truths and complete misrepresentations of facts carefully designed to create the situation I now find myself in…facing life in Azkaban, with or without the Kiss, or nuclear war with the NATO alliance. Tell me, Cedric--and the rest of you lot listen up!--who benefits from the destruction of Britain? Me? Hardly…." Harry shook his head, and suddenly looked decades older.

"What about the Aurors? Drained of magic, then killed?" Cedric had to know.

Harry looked up, and his eyes were cold. "They tried to kill me. I beat them to it. Now, their magic helps power the wards that protect innocent people."

Cedric looked back at him, trying to take that in. Harry, seeing his struggle, shook his head angrily.

"My mistake was in thinking that I could be left alone. Once I stepped onto the global stage, I became a global player. Unfortunately, I didn't know that…or know the rules of the game. Cedric, I swear to you, I only wanted to make things better, not worse. What I didn't count on was being outmaneuvered like I was…like all of us were."

"Harry, I don't follow…outmaneuvered how?"

"Ced, love, I'm not even sure, even now. I do know that at least two Middle Eastern factions have been actively working to try to infiltrate my people, and that a steady stream of 'verified' rumors have been 'leaking' out to various and sundry places. Your friend from Washington, over there," Harry nodded in Blevin's direction "could probably tell you better than I can about some of that. While you're at it, ask Hermione about what she's being told by the PM's office and MI-5, and just how many agents does she think I have that speak Mandarin or Cantonese as their native tongue. The real number, by the way, would be zero."

"So…you're telling me this is all a hoax?"

Harry grinned. "No, not all of it…I have put the Fidelius around large parts of the British Isles, offered sanctuary and support to any number of beings both magical and muggle…and there are occasionally all night raves with strange drugs and potions; naked, writhing bodies engaging in ancient rituals. Ancient rituals like I tried to engage in with you…." He winked saucily and licked his lips at a flummoxed Cedric.

"Harry…you were fourteen!" he protested.

"Going on fifteen…and before you get all bent, Hermione, I have mild thirsting charms cast over the venues, and I provide free bottled water, so there's not a problem with dehydration…and there are healers who monitor each event start to finish. We strongly discourage any cutting or other blood play, magical or otherwise. I dare say my people's death toll is considerably lower than metro London's dance clubs on any given weekend. Certainly our rate of social diseases is much lower, that I can promise you!"

Cedric looked over at Hermione who, despite being petrified looked as if she were about to explode. Neville was blushing, and it looked like the rest were trying to giggle or laugh outright. Grinning, he turned back to Harry.

"I wish I could see it, but…."

Harry sobered a bit, but nodded. "I wish you could see it, too, Ced. There's so much I've wanted to share with you over the years. But, I know about the time limitation, and that you've got to go back. Promise me this, though…don't die on me this time! Promise me!" Harry stepped forward, locking his eyes on Cedric's. Cedric felt the power, the almost desperate pleading in Harry's voice. What could he say?

"I'll do my best, Harry…you know I will. That's all I can promise." Cedric said softly.

Harry Potter stared into his eyes for several long seconds before he looked away, sighing.

"I know you will, Ced…I know."

"Harry…." Cedric began, but was cut off.

"No, Ced…your time's almost up, I can feel the spell starting to unravel, and there's too much I have to tell you." He paused, and then looked up at the taller man in speculation.

"Cedric…would you let me into your mind?"

"What?!?" Cedric was certain that he had heard wrong.

"Let me use Legilimancy on you…it's a form of mind-reading, but I can use it to put information directly into your mind much faster than we can talk. Please, Cedric, the spell's about to go, I'm already strengthening Malfoy to hold you here just a bit longer…I won't, would never hurt you, you know that…."

Cedric grabbed Harry by the shoulders and shook him as he started to babble. "Harry, yes…do it! Do it now!" He looked down, gray eyes seeking out green and then….

Harry was in his thoughts, running and laughing, frantically stacking up boxes of memories hither and yon, showing Cedric 'his' future at a million frames a second, too fast to understand just watch remember later Occulomency how you do it clear your mind rubbish order thoughts memories you teach me not Snape hurt head opened Voldemort Dumbledore manipulating prophecy weapon die torture Umbridge quill lies Inquisitor Malfoy cabinet werewolves horcruxes items locations destroy Voldemort….

…and Cedric Diggory was back in his own head, Harry's hands cradling his face gently.

"It's time, love…can you feel it?"

Cedric nodded dumbly, unable to speak.

"A few last things…first, remember that I love you." Cedric could only smile back at Harry, tears running down both of their faces.

"Next, basilisk leather is MUCH better for clothes than dragon hide…ask 'little me' where you can get scads of it, okay? Also, take at least a thousand galleons and give it to the Weasley twins, for the joke shop. Don't worry, they'll understand." Cedric nodded and then bent double as a ripping pain shot through his belly.

"Oh bugger all, its happening!" Harry yelled. "Draco, Neville, help me! We've got to send him back, now!"

Cedric was vaguely aware of hands supporting him, and Draco's voice beginning to chant. He thought he heard Harry yell something about killing him later, just come on, then Harry's magic wrapped around him and cushioned him. He didn't know how he knew it was Harry's magic, but….

No, he thought…I'd know that magic anywhere. It's my Harry.

And don't you forget it, Harry's voice snarked inside his head.

Cedric opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) to see Harry standing with one hand on Draco's shoulder, both of them with wands raised. All around him a cyclone of magic spun and wheeled, and he heard one voice rising over all the rest, one last time.

"Whatever you do, keep Sirius away from that bloody Veil! Now, DUCK!"

Thunder cracked, and he went….

A/N: well, there you have it...was it what you were expecting? Frankly, I hope not...but I also hope that you're happy with the way the story broke. And now...well, from here on out it's downhill to the finish line. Not too much more to go, obviously...so we'll be wrapping up soon. However, the sequal is roughly half-way finished (I think)--difficult to say, because the bunny just keeps gnawing at me. Please review, so I can feed the hungry bunny while I still have some leg left....

_**Next Chapter:**_ Guess...'cause I ain't telling! (Hint: if I wanted angsty, I'd just have re-read GOF and not gone to all of this trouble.)


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: And back we go! Many thanks for all of the reviews, hopefully (hopefully) the posting will be smoothly from here on (you'll notice that I'm not holding my breath). Now the question is: can Cedric actually manage to change anything? Assuming, that is, he makes it out of the graveyard alive and in once piece....

**Chapter Sixteen**

"Avada Kedavra!"

Cedric moved without thinking, throwing his body sideways in a desperate lunge. Flailing and off balance, his head struck a tombstone.

Cedric Diggory knocked himself out.

***

An uncertain amount of time later, Cedric became aware of several things. First, he had been rudely jerked from blissful unconsciousness by the sensation of a large hook behind his navel jerking him through a tornado, then landing flat on his back on a cold, hard surface—probably the ground. Then, there was the sensation of someone beating on his chest accompanied by hysterical sobbing about someone being dead. That might not have been so bad, had it not been going straight to his throbbing head.

"Stop…ow! Stop hitting me," he managed weakly, trying to fend off his assailant. Unfortunately, his arms didn't seem to want to cooperate, and he had the distinct impression that they were just flailing about uselessly.

"CEDRIC! YOU'RE NOT DEAD! YOU'RE ALIVE!" Harry…it had to be Harry…screeched, which did Cedric's head no good at all. But, before he could complain about his head, Cedric felt like his ribs were being crushed by a hyperactive boa constrictor.

"Ow…can't breath, Harry…let me up." Cedric's clumsy attempt to sit up was quickly thwarted when his overwrought co-champion pulling him into his arms.

"Oh, Cedric…I thought you were dead…I couldn't leave you there, I had to bring you back, oh Merlin you're alive, you're alive…." Harry was panting and sobbing and laughing, all at the same time. As he started choking, Cedric was able to get his own arms around the smaller teen and slap his back in what he hoped was an effective manner.

"Shush, Harry, yes I'm alive, just breath for me, that's my good lad…breath, Harry, it'll all be alright now, deep breaths, that's it…." Holding Harry in his arms, Cedric could feel Harry starting to calm a bit.

"What's the meaning of this? Stop this unseemly display this instance!" Cornelius Fudge's blustering interrupted Cedric's attempt to sooth Harry. Looking up, Harry turned a tear-stained face to the Minister for Magic.

"He's back, sir…Voldemort's back," Harry choked out. As usual, he ignored the flinches that his use of the Dark Lord's name caused. "I thought…I thought that Cedric had been killed, but apparently I was mistaken." With an effort, Harry pulled himself together and pushed away from Cedric's embrace.

"Just so. Well, if you were mistaken about such an obvious thing as life or death, I don't see that we should believe such utter nonsense about the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Rubbish, that's what it is, sheer rubbish!" Fudge raised his head, announcing this to the gathering crowd.

Hearing that, Cedric surged to his feet angrily. "It's not rubbish! The Dark Lord HAS returned!" Unconsciously, he shielded Harry with his body from the blustering Minister.

"Oh, and did you see him yourself? I thought you were supposed to be dead?" Fudge sneered.

"Well, er…" Cedric paused. He hadn't actually seen it—being unconscious at the time—but he knew it to be true. Unfortunately, telling Fudge and everyone else standing around them, including Dumbledore, just exactly how he knew…was not an option. Then, looking up, he saw his father pushing his way through the crowd towards him. "Dad!" he yelled. "He's back! The Dark Lord! He's come back!" As his voice carried over the crowd, pandemonium broke out.

Turning to a sputtering Fudge, Cedric sneered. "If Harry Potter says it, I believe it! That's how I know." Turning to the smaller boy, he looked around and saw…nothing. Frantically, he began looking around for Harry, without success.

"Harry! Where's Harry?" Looking from one face to another, Cedric saw others begin to search for the Boy-Who-Lived. Suddenly, a thought struck Cedric.

"Moody! He's gone off with Mad-Eye Moody!" Rounding on Dumbledore, Cedric barked. "We've got to go after them…Moody's a Death Eater."

"Alistair Moody, a Death Eater? Cedric, my boy, I assure you…." Dumbledore began, looking into Cedric's eyes with concern.

Suddenly Cedric felt an icy pressure across his forehead, and an entire set of memories blossomed into being, seemingly from nowhere. Setting a block across his mind, he envisioned an enraged badger—all teeth and claws—leaping at the Headmaster as he 'pushed' against the feeling as hard as he could.

Dumbledore jerked back in surprise, but quickly composed himself. "Very impressive, Mr. Diggory. However, I assure you that Professor Moody…."

"Is a bloody Death Eater, and has been all year, you old coot!" Cedric ignored the gasps from all around him and pressed on. "And now he's got Harry! Come on, he's probably halfway back to the castle by now!" Without waiting to see if he was followed, Cedric spun, wrenching his arm away from his father and sprinted away towards the castle. As he ran, he grasped his arm and…yes! His wand was there, safe in the holster his father had gotten him when he was picked as the Tri-Wizard champion. He could just see a pair of figures moving towards Hogwarts in the distance when a strong hand clamped down on his arm.

Spinning, Cedric say a tall, black Auror—Shackelford? Was that his name?—restraining him.

"Easy there, lad…the Minister wants to have a word with you."

Cedric tried to pull away, but the older man's grip was too strong. "Let me go! You don't understand, that Death Eater has Harry!"

"I find your accusations against a respected auror rather difficult to believe, boy. Alistair Moody trained me, and if there's ever been anyone less likely to be a Death Eater, it's Mad-Eye." The tall man held him without apparent effort.

"Bloody buggering hell! He's polyjuiced himself, of course he's not the real Mad-Eye…let me go, I've got to get to Harry!" Cedric jerked again, with no better luck.

By this time, a small crowd had managed to catch up to the pair, Amos Diggory, Ron and Arthur Weasley and Hermione Granger among them. Ignoring the steel grip on his arm, Cedric turned to them, pleading.

"Dad…Mr. Weasley…Hermione…he's got Harry!"

He was relieved when Hermione spun on the others. "We've got to go after them, if Harry's in trouble! Cedric, where do you think they're going?" Speaking with absolute certainty, Cedric couldn't help but remember that Harry had once described his friend as a 'force of nature'.

"Back to the castle…probably back to the fake Mad-Eye's rooms, behind the DADA classroom."

Granger made to dart away, but the same Auror that held Cedric reached out and snagged her as well. "Let's just see what the Minister has to say about this, shall we? Here he comes now." And sure enough, Cedric could see Fudge huffing and puffing after them. Also, he noticed that Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall hurried on past without stopping. Well, that was something, he thought, and stopped struggling.

"Dad, you've got to make them understand. That's not the real Professor Moody…he's a polyjuiced Death Eater."

"Polyjuiced Death Eater? Teaching at Hogwarts? Rubbish! I think that knock to the head's addled the boy's brains, that's what I think!" Fudge blurted.

As he fought to keep from lunging at the idiot Minister, Cedric suddenly became aware of a wet sensation in his hair. Reaching up, his hand came away sticky with blood. Absently, he wiped his hand on his robes while he tried to come up with some way to make these blithering dolts understand.

"Dad…." He pleaded.

Amos Diggory stood there, uncertain as to what to do. On one hand, his son was insisting that all manner of impossible things were happening. On the other, Fudge WAS the Minister, and his superior. Although, it could be argued….

Turning to Arthur Weasley, Amos Diggory did what any good bureaucrat would have done…he tried to pass the problem onward. "Arthur, what do you think? You know the Potter boy well, don't you? Could he be telling the truth?"

Caught flat-footed, the Weasley Patriarch quickly rallied. "I know Harry well enough to know that if he says it, he truly believes it," he hedged. "Certainly we need to find Harry as soon as possible. I don't like the way he disappeared back there."

Fudge snorted. "Probably running off to find some member of the press to babble his lies to, I'd say."

Cedric managed, barely, to keep from attacking the Minister bodily. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself. Once again, memories of meditation and Occulomency techniques bloomed in his mind, and he felt his thoughts neatly order themselves. He smiled serenely as an obvious solution presented itself.

"Well, in that case, Minister…I'd say that the best course of action would be to track him down before any more damage can be done, don't you think?" When all of the adults gaped at his calm tone, Cedric just raised his eyebrows at them. "Well, doesn't that seem reasonable? Logical, even?" He noticed that the young Weasley was looking at him, mouth open, while Granger tried to conceal a smirk. Fortunately, she seemed to be as quick on the uptake as Harry had said.

"That would seem to be the most sensible course of action, Minister. After all, if Harry is delusional, then the last thing we want is the Boy-Who-Lived—and now Tri-Wizard Co-Champion—giving out interviews in his current state. Who knows just what the poor thing might say?" Hermione caught Cedric's eye and gave him a wink that he was sure no one else noticed.

While Fudge and the rest of the adults mulled this over, Cedric picked up the Quaffle and flew with it. "Oh, absolutely…he can be outrageous enough at the best of times, but now…possibly delirious? There's no limit to what he might spout off."

With a look of dawning horror in his eyes, Fudge shook himself. "Quite right, quite right! We have to find Potter immediately, so that he can get the medical attention he needs!"

Nodding their agreement vigorously, Cedric and Hermione separated themselves from the auror's grasp and begin shepherding the various adults towards Hogwarts as fast as they could. A steady stream of comments, liberally laced with 'poor Harry's and 'he did take a blow to the head' and similar tripe kept Fudge and the rest moving along fairly well. Only a series of repressive looks from Hermione kept Cedric from bolting ahead

Finally, the group managed to make their way up the front steps of the castle. They had just passed through the main doors when a muffled 'boom' echoed through the halls.

"That came from the DADA classroom!" Hermione gasped, trying to herd the Minister in that direction.

Cedric didn't wait to see if she was successful or not. Ducking out of the black auror's reach, he tore off through the halls towards the DADA room. When he arrived, he found Harry seated to one side, clutching his arm and rocking in pain. Distantly he noted a knot of professors around a young man wearing Moody's clothes, but he only had eyes for Harry. Without thinking, he was at Harry's side, kneeling to gently take his arm.

"Here, let me see that. You're bleeding," he said softly.

Harry tried to jerk away, his head coming up frantically. "Cedric, that's not Moody, he's a Death Eater!"

Cedric smiled gently, reaching up to brush a lock of Harry's wild hair out of his eyes. "I know, now shush. The professors have him, and more people are on the way…you're safe now."

"But…I saw Worm…Wormtail cast the AK…and then there was a flash, and you fell over, and…." Harry was still on the verge of hysterics, and it was all Cedric could do not to sweep him into his arms and kiss his tears away.

"Prat, he missed…and then I knocked myself on the head." Cedric grinned. "I guess that makes me a bigger prat than you…for once."

"Yeah…" Harry blinked, trying to clear his eyes. "Cedric, the Dark Lord…Wormtail took my blood, and used it in some ritual…he's back, oh Ced, he's back…." Harry moaned in despair.

"Harry, I know, I know, shush, now," Cedric tried to sooth. "I told them all, even Fudge and Dumbledore, they all know, thanks to you." He tried to keep his voice low and even to reassure the frantic boy.

"Yes, indeed, Mr. Potter, he did indeed tell me…after he called me an old coot," Dumbledore came up behind Cedric, his eyes twinkling. "And thanks to his timely warning, we were able to apprehend young Bartholomew Crouch, here, as well as rescue the real Alistair Moody. Well done, Mr. Diggory, well done!" The Headmaster clapped Cedric on the shoulder, then leaned down to say softly, "but we will have a talk about your impressive Occulomency skills in the near future, won't we, my boy?"

Cedric could only nod, then burst out as a thought came to him. "Headmaster, the Minister will try to have Crouch kissed before he can testify before the Wizengamot about the Dark Lord…we have to keep that from happening."

Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought. "A good point, Mr. Diggory. We shall have to steps to prevent that, of course…although once Mr. Crouch is taken to the Ministry my influence will be strictly limited…."

The Headmaster's musings were interrupted by Fudge's bustling arrival. "Well now, found the Potter boy, have we? Good, good, no press around…I mean, let's get him off to the hospital wing immediately, shall we? Have him put to rights in no time, I'm sure, nasty things, concussions…."

"Minister, I'm afraid there are even more serious matters which we must discuss than Mr. Potter's immediate health. Although, I feel confident that Mr. Diggory, Miss Granger and young Mr. Weasley can see to it that Mr. Potter goes straight to the hospital wing. Understand? Oh, and Mr. Diggory can have himself checked, as well." The Headmaster looked at all of them sternly as he spoke.

A chorus of 'yes, sirs' was his answer as Cedric helped Harry to stand. A moment's dizziness had him leaning on the smaller teen, then he felt a strong arm circle his waist.

"Easy there, mate, don't fall on Harry," Ron Weasley said as he took Cedric's weight on his own shoulder. "Hermione, get Harry, would you?"

"Honestly, Harry…you can let go of Cedric now." Hermione grumped. When Harry ignored her, she sighed and moved to support him as the four of them made their way slowly to the hospital wing. Behind them, the sounds of arguing voices rose and fell.

A/N: _**Next Chapter:**_ just a short interlude before we wrap up. Blantant romantic stuff in the hospital wing...you have been warned!


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Short, I know...but this is just a little sweetness before the last chapter.

No change in previous disclaimer.

**Chapter Seventeen**

Madam Pomphrey sighed as she closed the Infirmary doors. "Finally!" she breathed, before rounding on her last two patients.

The other two Tri-Wizard contestants had been treated and released, then there had been a veritable parade of parents, professors, friends, Ministry officials and one attempt by an overzealous reporter, all trying to thank, chide, interview, reprimand and/or congratulate Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter. Madam Pomphrey had tolerated this for a bit, but when both of her charges showed definite signs of impending collapse, she had put her foot down, quite firmly. Both of the boys needed rest, peace and quiet, and would be getting it! In short order she had cleared the wing with a devastating combination of withering glares and veiled threats of medical procedures she planned to inflict on anyone remaining in the Infirmary.

Cedric and Harry, already tucked into side-by-side beds, did their best to look small, inoffensive and meek. Out of the corner of his eye, Cedric say Harry start to make his 'pitiful face'—all puppy dog eyes and quivering lip—but it quickly vanished with one look from Poppy Pomphrey. The snicker that Cedric made turned into a choke when Poppy turned the same look on him.

"Now," the nurse sniffed. "You two," and her gaze pinned both of them, "are going to go to sleep right now. I'll be in my office if you need me…and I don't want to hear any unnecessary conversation or foolishness. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, mum." "Yes, Madam Pomphrey."

"Humph." The formidable woman sailed past them, muttering. "Dragons, merepeople, Dark Lords…all for a silly trophy cup? Stuff and nonsense, all of it, stuff and…." The door to her office banged shut.

Absolute silence settled over the Infirmary. Finally, Harry whispered, "Give me a dragon or a Dark Lord any day."

Cedric turned to him and grinned. "Didn't you already have one of those today?" he whispered back.

Harry did his best to smile, but it was rather wan. "Yeah, I did…" he trailed off.

"Hey, Harry?" Cedric was NOT going to let his boyfriend sink into a funk.

"Yeah, Ced?"

"You're a prat, you know?"

"Huh?"

"You're a prat. Pee…are…aae…tee…prat."

"What? Why am I the prat?" Harry whispered hotly.

"Because you're MY prat, prat!" Cedric said, grinning.

Harry blinked, then snickered. "Yeah, well, that makes you MY prat, prat!"

"Okay." Cedric shrugged, still grinning.

"Okay?"

"Yeah…."

"Well, as long as you're okay."

"I'm better than okay."

"Huh?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way." And with that, Cedric was about to slip out of the bed to kiss his boyfriend…but Poppy's door slammed open.

"I'm certain that I didn't hear whispering out here, gentlemen…or shall I bring out the potions and the proctoscope?"

Silence was her only answer. After a long moment, the Healer sniffed, and then her voice softened.

"You can talk all day tomorrow, and the day after…but for now, you both truly need your rest, boys. Go to sleep." Gently she shut the door.

Cedric found himself yawning, and watched Harry do the same.

"G'night, prat."

"You too, prat."

And both fell victim to the sleeping charm Poppy had activated on their beds.

A/N: If you've never seen a rigid proctoscope (or even worse, had one used on you), you'll know just how serious Poppy's threat was. If you haven't, well...use your imagination. Regardless, thank the diety of your choice for fiber optic technology. (*snickers at obscure medical humor references*)

**_Next Chapter: _** Yes, there is a next chapter. Yes, it is the last chapter. No, this is not the end of this particular tale...the sequal is in progress.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: And here it is, the final chapter! Thank you all for the reviews, they are all much appreciated. As my first fic, this has been an interesting experience. I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed reading your reviews. Peace, love and lithium to you all!

Oh, and a big Shout Out! to Finland for Stinuli (as promised), who not only writes nice reviews but has an excellent Fav stories list on her profile. I'm especially happy to have found her list, which rocks!

No change in disclaimer.

**Chapter Eighteen**

The next few days passed in a whirlwind of activity. Cedric and Harry were proclaimed the Co-Winners of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but fortunately neither was required to have a date for the Awards Banquet. Of course, Harry teased Cedric horribly about the two of them being required to dance together at said banquet. The teasing continued until Cedric transfigured Harry's robes into a daringly revealing lavender ball gown—during lunch in the Great Hall. The subsequent response escalated into a food fight that cost Hufflepuff and Gryffindor fifty points each. Regardless, it was felt to be well worth the points by most of those concerned. ("Honestly, Harry!")

This also led to the discovery of a heretofore unsuspected charm protecting the staff table from flying edibles, which allowed the staff to continue their meal without interruption while culinary chaos reigned below. Later, the Weasley twins were heard to declare that they would make it their life's work to discover the counter spell to said protective charm, purely for the enlightenment and edification of Hogwarts students yet unborn.

The twins were widely praised for their selfless humanitarianism in undertaking this attempt. Hermione Granger just rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

In a secret meeting between Cedric, Harry and the Twins, promises were made and gifts were exchanged…and the future Weasley's Wizard Wheezes acquired not one, but two silent partners.

Also at this secret meeting, certain parties were informed that (a) their snogging had not gone unnoticed, (b) the noticing parties had not felt inclined to share this knowledge but suspected that (c) the Hogwarts rumor being what it was, their snogging would not long be a secret. That having been said, the noticing parties offered their support for the relationship, contingent only upon the understanding that if a certain Hufflepuff treated their adopted little brother shabbily, a painful retribution would be in the offing. This resulted in several great and mighty oaths being sworn to the effect that, should such injury ever occur the injuring party would feed himself to the dragons before the Twins could get the chance.

Immediately following this meeting certain parties felt the need to re-affirm their relationship with an intense snogging session that caused both of them to miss curfew.

Fudge continued to insist that the Dark Lord had not returned, despite Harry's offer to provide pensieve memories for viewing by the Wizengamot. Also, Barty Crouch, Jr. was 'inadvertently' kissed, despite Dumbledore's best efforts to arrange a trial for him. Lucius Malfoy, curiously, just 'happened' to have visited the Ministry on the morning before Crouch's 'accident', but as Lord Malfoy was a frequent visitor at the Ministry nothing was said of this.

A list of suspected Death Eaters was compiled by Harry, with Cedric's help. When they showed it to the recovering Mad-Eye Moody, he just snorted and said "no surprises there, lad." He did, however, promise to make himself available to the boys over the summer for "training like you should have been getting all along".

Harry just 'happened' to find a copy of a blood substitution ritual in the library, which Dumbledore reluctantly agreed would satisfy the conditions of the blood wards around Number 4, Privet Drive without Harry actually having to spend the summer there himself. His concerns about Harry being 'unprotected' during the summer were brushed off by Cedric's father, who seemed vaguely insulted that the Headmaster didn't feel him 'qualified' to supervise two teenagers who were so obviously competent to take care of themselves. After all, they were Tri-Wizard Champions, weren't they?

Amos Diggory, newly delighted that the Boy-Who-Lived had become best friends with his son ("That'll be something to tell your grandchildren about, won't it, son? Best mates with Harry Potter and all") was all too happy to agree to chaperone the two young men on their post-victory summer holiday tour. Any concerns he might have about the costs involved were rather conclusively settled when Harry just shrugged and said that his trust fund vault had more than enough gold for all of their travel expenses…and showed the senior Diggory a bulging sack.

Of course, Amos' discrete inquiries at the Ministry revealed that, upon attaining his majority, Harry Potter would assume control of one of the largest fortunes in magical Britain. While the Diggorys were far from being paupers, the Ancient and Noble House of Potter rivaled the Blacks for wealth…and could, at will, sniff at _nuevo riche_ upstarts like the Malfoys.

Amos made a note to himself to be VERY nice to the future Lord Potter.

Despite Harry and Cedric's insistence that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned, the official position of the Ministry was exactly what Fudge had insisted on the day of the third task. While Fudge puttered and prevaricated other forces throughout the United Kingdom began preparing themselves for another round of war. Behind Fudge's back, certain elements of the Magical Law Enforcement and Unspeakable departments started working up contingency plans. Recruitment and training were all subtly increased as much as possible, without frankly going to a war footing. Certain parties who might have noticed these changes and reported them to the Minister found reasons to look the other way, and if Amos Diggory and Arthur Weasley seemed to be given more respect in the halls of the Ministry, what of it?

Cedric spoke with Professor Flitwick, who was delighted to accept Cedric into a Charms apprenticeship. Together, they started making plans for Cedric to spend one to three years with him at Hogwarts before transferring to another Master to finish his training. When Harry heard this, he remarked that he could always hire private tutors for his NEWTS but refused any further comment on the issue except to say—repeatedly--that he was happy for Cedric.

Harry and Cedric finished out the school year incredibly frustrated, as their 'together time' had been almost nonexistent since the third task. On the Hogwarts Express trip to London, they commandeered a compartment by themselves so that Cedric could show Harry the interlinked locking, silencing and black-out charms he had been practicing.

The Express was halfway to London before Hermione finally gave up on trying to get past Cedric's spells. She spent the rest of the trip huffing to Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna about how she just wanted to help the boys plan their summer holidays—after all, Harry had his OWLS to start revising for, and Cedric would be starting his Mastery, and while she approved of their plans for a vacation, she felt that they were going to be gone for much too long so that Harry wouldn't have enough time to start his revisions, but she was willing to help them map out a list of museums, libraries, archeological and cultural sites that they should visit while they were abroad, so at least the time wouldn't be completely wasted.

She couldn't understand why everyone in the compartment laughed all the way back to Platform 9 ¾.

When they arrived in London, Cedric and Harry looked only slightly mussed—Cedric had also been working on grooming charms for Harry's hair--but considerably happier with life in general. Of course, when Hermione started lecturing them about how they would just have to do without her planning assistance, they joined their other friends in laughing at her. When Hermione tossed her head and stalked off in a snit, Harry laughed so hard that Cedric had to hold him up lest he fall to the platform.

The pair was still laughing when they met the Durstleys. Harry and Cedric had declined an offer by Moody and some of the other Order members to speak with Harry's relatives about their treatment of Harry. Cedric had coolly informed Vernon and Petunia that he would be accompanying them back to Privet Drive only long enough to set the wards, then he and Harry would be leaving…for good. The Durstleys were beside themselves with glee until they found out that Harry would be traveling across Europe and Asia over the summer.

"And just where did you get the money for that extravagance? Some freakish nonsense, I'll wager," Vernon huffed. He squinted at the tall, self assured young man standing by his nephew.

"Actually, we won an international competition, and we're traveling on the prize money," Cedric answered.

"What? Runty little Potter, won a competition? What'd he do, enter the fall down, mess his shorts race?" Dudley grinned, impressed with his own brilliance.

"Actually, in the first task we had to duel a dragon…and it got worse from there," Cedric replied coolly. "Of course, Harry was the only one whose dragon broke its chain; between the two of them, they managed to damage most of the roofs on the castle."

"Duh…dragons? Castle?" Dudley stammered while Petunia blanched and Vernon purpled.

"Oh, quite…sixty feet of wing, fang and claw…then there's the fire breath, don't you know…it's a wonder we all weren't as scorched as Viktor, poor bloke." Harry chimed in.

The two champions continued in that vein all the way to Privet Drive, both seeing just how nonchalant they could appear while describing the Tri-Wizard Tournament in the most horrible ways possible. Cedric particularly enjoyed the whimper Dudley made when he described Viktor Krum's shark-head in the second task, but both were disappointed that neither of them managed to get Dudley to wet himself during the trip.

Once inside, Vernon seemed to recover somewhat. "All right, do what ever freakish things you must do, then get out!" Cedric just smirked, and then announced that before he could begin, an inspection of the house was in order.

"I have to see just where the wards are anchored…you understand, of course, that if we don't do this properly you'll have no protection from the Death Eaters?"

"Death Eaters? Whatever do you mean?" Petunia screeched.

"Dark wizards who like nothing more than killing your kind," Cedric said absently, looking around. "Their dark master has just come back from the dead, so I wouldn't be surprised if killing you lot wasn't soon in the offing." Leaving the Durstleys quivering in the living room, he made to go upstairs but….

"Harry?"

"Yes, Cedric?"

"Is this your cupboard?"

"Er…yeah?"

"Thank you, Harry. Is there anything you need from upstairs? If so, get it now, because we're never coming back here."

"No, Cedric…all I have is in my trunk, I don't dare leave anything here over the term."

"Good. _Reducto!"_

The cupboard exploded with a crash, and the stairs above it sagged dangerously. His face expressionless, Cedric went back into the living room to face the now thoroughly terrified muggles.

"You'll get expelled for that! You're not allowed!" Petunia wailed.

"You…FREAK! Why, I'll…" Vernon moved towards Cedric threateningly, but stopped when Cedric's wand snapped up to point between his eyes.

"Oh, please…make me think that you're threatening me," Cedric hissed. Ignoring Harry's tugging on his arm, he continued. "I am a fully qualified wizard, able to use magic when and how I please, muggle…especially in self-defense. And, just in case I did something to you that St. Mungo's couldn't reverse, I'm quite willing to face a trial before our courts. Where, I'm sure, your own memories of your treatment of Harry will be used against you."

Vernon quickly looked down and muttered something about 'freaks ought not be allowed' as he backed down.

"What was that?" Cedric's voice cracked like a whip. "Not allowed to do what? Abuse a child? Starve a child, just because of your asinine prejudices? Beat a child, just because you thought he was a freak?" He was yelling now. "You loathsome, worthless…."

"Cedric! That's enough. Let's set the wards and leave, I don't want to stay here any longer than we have to." Harry pulled Cedric around to face him, all the while keeping an eye on his relatives. "They're not worth it, Cedric…let's just finish the wards and go. Please?" He kept his face carefully neutral, not wanting to inflame his boyfriend further.

Cedric deflated with a sigh. "You're right, Harry. I'm sorry. Let's just do this and go." With a last, cold look at the Durstley's he walked into the kitchen, Harry trailing behind him.

Drawing a vial of Harry's blood only took a moment, but tracing the ward line around the property took several minutes. Once that was done, Cedric stepped to the back fence and, after checking to see that no one was watching, quickly cast the binding charm.

There was a brief flare of light from the blood line around the property, then nothing. Satisfied, Cedric turned to Harry.

"Get your things and let's go."

Later that evening, after a typical (read: harrowing) ride back into London on the Knight Bus, Cedric and Harry settled into a room in the Leaky Cauldron. In the morning they would be going to Diggory House for a few days before leaving for France. Fleur Delacour had insisted that they spend the first part of their vacation with her family just outside Paris, and the boys had readily agreed. Then, once they had seen the sights of France, it was to be on to Greece, Egypt, and then to Japan before returning to Diggory House for the last of the summer.

"Separate beds?" Harry teased as they entered the room.

"Shush, prat," Cedric responded. "Appearances…and you're still underage."

"Ceeeeddrriiiiiic…." Harry whinged, going into 'pitiful face' mode.

"Haaaaaarryy" Cedric whinged back, then ducked as a pillow sailed past his face. Before he could regroup he was tackled by a hyperactive Gryffindor bent on mayhem. A vicious tickle-fight erupted, which Cedric finally won only because he was bigger and somewhat stronger than Harry. Finally managing to entrap the wiggling brunette in his arms, Cedric collapsed back onto his bed.

His energy spent, Harry immediately went from rabid attack krup to cuddle kneezle, squirming around until he fit comfortably across the lap of his larger boyfriend. Not for the first time, Cedric was amazed at just how much Harry craved simple touches, and how readily he responded to them. Of course, Cedric was all too willing to give him all of the caresses he wanted, especially after seeing that bloody cupboard! How could anyone, for any reason, treat a child like that?

Harry, feeling his boyfriend tense, gave a small whimper and tried to wriggle closer.

"Ced? You okay? I mean, with us staying here tonight, then spending the summer together, and all? We don't have to, you know…I could stay here, or with Sirius, or go back to Hogwarts, or…."

Cedric, realizing that Harry thought he was the cause of Cedric's anger, cursed himself and tried to relax. "Shush, you. No, you're not going anywhere without me, just like we planned."

"But…."

"No buts…I was just thinking about your so-called 'family', that's all…oh, those muggles…." His temper started to flare again.

Harry reached up and turned his head down, forcing Cedric to look into his eyes. "Now you shush. It's over…done…past. I'm never going back there…and besides, you already destroyed my cupboard, where would I sleep?" He smiled, making Cedric wonder just how such a wonderful person had come out of that environment. "And just think…I bet the stairs collapsed the first time Dudley tried to go upstairs." Harry's laugh was enough to relax Cedric, who cradled Harry's head against his chest lovingly.

"Oh, Harry…my Harry," he breathed.

From his chest, he heard a small voice. "Prat."

"Your prat."

"Uh-huh…and don't you forget it."

And, wrapped in each other's arms, they drifted off to sleep.

**Finis**

**A/N:** And that's that! The shielding charm on the staff table, while blatantly obvious (I'd do it in a heartbeat if I had to teach at a school like Hogwarts) deserves a nod to redfox13's excellent 'It Can't Be Love', which I highly recommend. Also, if anyone reading this from Merry Olde England would care to comment on the use of titles and honors, correct or otherwise, that'd be just swell! And, one last nod to the Harry Potter lexicon on line, which made my life much easier during the writing of this fic. Of course, any errors that creeped in are my responsibility.

The sequal (_working title: One Wizarding Summer, or How Harry Spent His Summer Vacation_) is already well under way at 15ish K words. Already I've got the boys to Japan, and along the way you get to meet Harry's new doctor...as well as a crazy old French wandmaker (is there any other kind?). While this fic primarily delt with getting Cedric back into the story arc alive (_snogging a ghost, or even worse, a zombie...urk, brrrr_), the sequal opens up even more plot threads...questionable activities by certain Headmasters, colusion by the Hogwarts staff, Harry the walking magical time bomb, and the obligatory whining, moaning and kvetching by everybody's favorite harridan, Molly Weasley. Oh, and Cedric/Harry snogging...high probability of that, too. However, I'm going to take a few days off before posting any more in this story line.

Other things in the works: another HP fic with the working title 'Bondage Love Slaves of Diagon Alley', which I'm going to post on skyhawke if I can ever get invited (hint hint) in the UNedited form...and may actually clean up just a tad and post here. Some old Smallville and Buffy stuff that I wrote literally years ago but never got up the gall to actually publish. My own couple of fics, which won't wind up here but have been markedly helped along by the grinding skill I'm developing on these fics. Mages and witches and elves, oh my!

And a shout out! to all of you around the globe...be well and be happy, for what else is there?

Thank you, and good night.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: First, a Shout Out! to Finland for Stinuli (as promised). Remember, reviews from your location get you a Shout Out!, too. Secondly, still would like some feedback from somebody in England about ranks/titles...I'm doing my best here, but chatting with someone from the Mother Country would be nice (hint hint).

This really isn't an Epilogue, but was written about half way through the main piece. Think of it as a holiday gift, from me to you--all my wonderful readers. And, if you're wondering, all I want in return are reviews (another hint hint).

**Not Really an Epilogue**

_Somewhere, in a bedroom_

"Harry, I realize that it's your birthday, but no! You're still underage."

"I don't care, I'm tired of waiting."

"Well, I do care, and we're going to wait, at least until you're seventeen."

"Ced, that's two more whole years."

"At least we know you can do simple sums."

"Prat. I want a birthday present."

"Prat back. You'll get your present tomorrow."

"But I want my prezzie noooooow."

"No…and anyway, you're not officially fifteen until tomorrow. Stop licking my ear, that tickles."

"Midnight."

"Whatever. Still tickles."

"Actually, oh too-sensitive one, I'll have you know that I will be officially of age at the stroke of midnight."

"What?"

"Oh, yes…I would actually expect you to know this, being pure blood born and bred and all, but…."

"Out with it, prat."

"Your prat. Anyway, as the Heir and only surviving member of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, as well as being the sole Heir to and Godson of the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, and in accordance with the inheritance decree of the Wizengamot of 1348 as modified in 1486…."

"Grrrrrr…."

"Oh, so fierce! As I was saying, as the Heir and only surviving member of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter…."

"Does this story have a point? Moral, even?"

"Shush, peasant. As the Heir and sole surviving member of the House of Potter…."

"That's it! I'm going to sleep in the Jacuzzi. I'll see you at breakfast."

"IgetmymajoritywhenIturnfifteen! AtmidnightImlegalandemancipatedandstuff!"

"Say again?"

"At midnight, I'm legal. When I turn fifteen."

"Oh."

"Exactly."

"OH!"

"Yeah."

"So…"

"In an hour and…sixteen minutes, I become Lord Potter, legal adult. And I want my prezzie…you know the one."

"You won't officially be legal until tomorrow."

"That's splitting hairs."

"Bloody right it is…but I'm tired, and we've got a big day planned for tomorrow, and now I have to do something even more special for 'Lord Potter' at the last minute…."

"That's so sweet…and I have a suggestion."

"No."

"Spoilsport."

"Yes."

"Prat."

"We've already established that."

"Berk."

"Oh, you wound me."

"I'll have you thrown in irons, peasant!"

"You'd need a dungeon for that."

"I'm sure I have a dungeon, somewhere."

"Uh huh. Surely."

"Then I could have my wicked way with you, and you couldn't do anything to stop me."

"Oh, so now we're into bondage, are we? No, that's not pervy, not at all."

*sigh* "I love you, you know."

"I know…I love you, too."

"I'm just tired of waiting."

"I am, too, but it really will be better this way."

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely."

"All right."

"Good."

"Well, you're old, and tired, and need your energy, so go to sleep."

"Thank you…I think."

"After all, we're going to wait."

"That's right."

"Until tomorrow night."

"Harry!"

"That's Lord Potter to you."

"Not until midnight…Lord Prat."

"I'm going to start dating Draco Malfoy."

"You'll make a lovely couple."

"You'll be jealous."

"I already am."

"You'll miss me."

"Horribly. I may even weep."

"You will…buckets."

"My heart will break."

"Within days."

"I'll wither away to nothing."

"Inside of a month."

"I'll have to console myself with Oliver Wood."

"WHAT?!?"

"Oh, didn't you know? Oliver and I were an item long before I met you."

"You're lying."

"Am not…ask Percy Weasley."

"Percy?"

"He caught us snogging in the Astronomy Tower. Took twenty points each and gave us a weeks detention."

"No!"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Well, well, well…Oliver Wood."

"Oh, yes."

"Hmm…Cedric, love?"

"What, Harry love?"

"We could invite Oliver over some night, you know…."

"Why you pervy little…!"

"Quidditch team, remember? After game showers?"

"Oh."

"Long showers."

"Oh."

"Was he…?"

"Never as good as you, love."

"But did you two…?"

"I've never snogged anyone who snogs as well as you. Never, ever."

"How many evers?"

"What?"

"How many? Before me?"

"I am NOT having this conversation."

"Ten?"

"No."

"Twenty."

"Merlin's beard, what do you take me for?"

"Okay…thirty, then."

*smack*

"Ow."

"Serves you right, you pervy little wanker."

"Well, Grandpa, since wanking is all some of us want to do..."

"I never said I didn't want to."

"Well, you sure act like it."

"You realize it's too dark for me to see the pouty face."

"It's enough for you to know it's there."

"It's not working…maybe if you stuck your lip out a little more…."

"I hate you."

"I hate you, too, but only on alternate Thursdays."

"Pardon?"

"The rest of the time I'm too busy being madly, hopelessly, insanely infatuated with you."

"You're silly."

"Better that than pervy."

"Oh, I'll show you pervy."

"I just bet you will…but not tonight."

"Alright, then. Go to sleep."

"Okay."

"Tomorrow night."

*sigh* "Harry!"

(fake snoring sounds)

*sigh* "Good night, love."

"Good night, Ced…prat."

"Your prat."

"And don't you forget it."

"Mmmm."

"Mmmm."

**Finis**

A/N: and that's really all for now. There is a second part in progress, but it'll be at least a couple of weeks before I start posting (I want to get more done on it, first). Also, I've just started a new job which will be sucking away my writing time *sigh*. Still, you should hear from me again in the not too distant future. Until then, be well, my friends!

The Twisty Guru


	20. Meanwhile, back in the OTHER universe

**A/N: ** I just couldn't let this one go, so here's what happened 'after' Chapter 15. Remember the 'kill me later' comment? Well, this is what happened a few seconds later....

**Disclaimer:** JKR got it all wrong...this is what REALLY happened!

**Chapter 20 (Meanwhile, back in the OTHER universe...)  
**

Draco Malfoy hurt all over.

That was probably a good thing, actually. Dead men typically don't hurt all over, so he supposed that he was alive, despite the magical explosion he had just survived. Cautiously, testing his limbs and trying to feel as much of his body as he had left--everything seemed to still be attached, except for his prosthetic foot--he began to move.

Then, the thought went through him like a thunderbolt--Sally!

Ignoring his own pain, he lifted himself up from where he had been thrown against a wall and looked around frantically. His eyes flitted over the general carnage around him, until he saw a familiar figure lying not to far from where he half-kneeled.

She was not moving.

"No, no, no, no..," the last of the Malfoys sobbed as he crabbed his way over to his lover's body. Carefully, he lifted her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her rapid, thready pulse danced beneath his fingers, and she gasped as consciousness returned.

"Dra...Draco?" Sally asked, then coughed up bloody phlegm.

"Shhh, love, it's me," Draco said, settling her back against his chest and looking around for his wand. "Just lie still while I heal you," he said, frantically groping for the holster he wore on his thigh. His fingers found the holster, but there was no wand there.

Sally managed a weak grin as she strained to look up at him. "Don't tell me what to do, me Lord. You're not the boss of me," she finished weakly, again coughing up blood.

"Never, my love, I'd never think such nonsense," Draco replied, looking around for his wand. Even assuming it was intact, he couldn't see it.

A shudder wracked the body of the muggle he held, and Draco's arm shot around her protectively.

"Sally, love, just try to relax...I need some help here!" he called out, noticing movement out of the corner of his eye, his attention focused on the woman he had come to love more than life itself.

"Draco...not going...to make it..." Sally coughed. "Feel...broken inside," she said, and turned her head to rest against his chest.

"NO!" Draco's half-cry, half-sob was torn from his very soul.

Then, a figure appeared before him.

"Hold her still, Draco...she's bleeding internally, and I don't want her moved any more until I can stabilize her." Harry Potter knelt before the pair, the Elder Wand moving in a pattern that Draco recognized as an advanced diagnostic spell.

"Potter...how..?" Draco stammered.

"Not now, Draco. She's very badly injured, and it will take everything I can do to save her, even with the Hallows." Potter...Harry...put his hand on Sally's chest and concentrated. Draco could feel the rush of magic--of life--pouring from the slightly built man into Sally's broken body.

"There," Harry said, a bit breathlessly. "That ought to buy us a minute or two. _Accio Draco's wand_," he said, and Draco saw his hawthorn wand come flying from up out of the debris. He just stared, gobsmacked, as Harry pressed his wand into unresisting fingers.

"Okay, Draco. Now, I'm going to lay her down, so you keep her head from banging the floor, okay?" Harry ordered, shifting Sally's body around as he did so.

"Hold it right there, Potter!" A voice rang out.

Draco looked over Harry's shoulder--Harry was still arranging Sally's body on the floor, and hadn't even looked up when his name was called--to see the American, Blevins, holding his wand on the renegade wizard, backed up by Justin Finch-Fletchley and a wobbly Neville Longbottom.

"Draco, I can save this woman's life, only if I heal her _now_," Potter said, his voice low, urgent. "My word that I'll not run afterward, but if I don't act now, she's as good as dead."

Draco Malfoy's mind whirred. This was Harry Potter, whom he had worked against for months and months, convinced that the crazed Gryffindor was going to pull his country into the abyss of destruction. Then, as he heard Potter's side of it, certain...inconsistencies that had never been explained to Draco's satisfaction suddenly made sense. As Potter had briefly told Cedric Diggory how the entire world had been played--really, Salazar himself would be impressed--the pieces all fell into place. Now, that same Potter was telling him that he could save his lover's life...but, of course, there would be a price to pay.

Draco snorted to himself. If this was all the universe was asking of him, it was cheap indeed.

Letting Sally's head rest gently on the concrete floor, Draco pushed himself up to a kneel, then shifted so that his body partially shielded Harry's. His wand came up, tracking back and forth between those who threatened the Man-Who-Lived.

"Back off! Let Potter work!" Draco rasped. He knew he made a fearsome sight, and quite frankly, hoped he looked as desperate as he felt just then.

"Malfoy! Get away from him! You're blocking us!" Blevins ordered.

"Try casting anything towards Potter and you're a dead man," Draco spat back. "He's given me his word that he can save Sally, and I believe him." Beside him, he heard Harry muttering frantically, and he felt the sheer power of the man straining to pull the fatally injured woman back from death's icy grip.

"Draco, we can heal her, just let us get Potter away," Finch-Fletchley said, his wand arm shaking.

"Sod off, Finch-Fletchley! Sally's a muggle, her body won't accept healing magic like ours. There's not a healer between here and St. Mungo's who can save her, except for Potter."

"Draco, he's a wanted criminal," Hermione Granger-Weasley was leaning against Longbottom. Draco noticed that she wasn't holding a wand, so he promptly dismissed her.

"How are things going, Potter," Draco asked softly, his eyes never wavering.

"Two more minutes, Draco," was the only answer he received. Well, good enough, Draco thought.

"Two more minutes," Draco repeated. "Then he'll be done," he told his audience. His eyes flickering over the room, he noticed another figure trying to rise across the room. "Someone ought to take a look at Susan Bones, don't you think?" He was pleased to see that Finch-Fletchley immediately spun around and went to her aid, removing himself from any confrontation that might happen in the next few minutes.

"Malfoy, I'm ordering you to move, or else," the American was speaking again.

"Or else, what? You'll attack me?" Draco snorted. "You're more than welcome to try...and I assure you, you won't like what I send back your way."

"Malfoy, be reasonable," Longbottom began, then almost collapsed.

"Hermione, see to Neville...he doesn't look well," Draco pointed out, his eyes never leaving Blevin's wand. "Potter won't be going anywhere until Sally's stable, that I can promise you."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Malfoy," a soft voice came from beneath him.

"Shut it, Potter. Don't waste time talking to me," Draco ordered. He steeled himself, and his eyes never left the American's wand even when he heard Sally give several sharp, short cries of pain.

"Sorry, miss, those were your ribs snapping back into place," Harry's voice soothed. "Now, I'm going to heal your lungs, and the damage to your heart," he went on. "This will probably make it hard to breath for a moment, but it won't last long."

"Nice bedside manner, Potter," Draco ventured. "Make a fine healer, you would."

Potter just glanced up with a wry grin. "Maybe in my next life," he said, never pausing in what he was doing. "I'm too old for a career change now."

Draco snorted, blinking as he did so. When he did, Blevins began casting a _Reducto_ towards Potter, which dissipated harmlessly off Draco's _Protego_.

"Last warning, Blevins," Draco snarled. "Next time, I won't just shield us."

"You're making yourself an outlaw, Malfoy," the consultant for the Pentagon hissed. "My government won't stand for Potter going free, not with everything that's at stake."

"Then it is fortunate that we are not in America, but in My Kingdom," a stern voice said from the doorway.

Except for Harry, who was quite busy, every eye in the room turned. There in the doorway--flanked by SAS troops in full battle dress, guns at the ready and two wizards in red robes, wands drawn--was Her Majesty, Elizabeth the Second, by the Grace of God Queen of the United Kingdom of England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland; Protector of the Realm, Defender of the Faith, etc. etc.

From the man he was shielding, Draco heard a quiet "uh oh..."

And for once, Draco Malfoy found himself in complete, total and utter agreement with Harry Potter.

***

"I will thank you all to lower your wands. Otherwise, my guards might take offense," the small woman spoke in a commanding tone, her eyes hard.

"I can't stop what I'm doing right now, or this woman will die, Your Majesty," Harry spoke up. Draco spared a glance down at the Gryffindor, and saw that he had not bothered to so much as glance at the Monarch since Her arrival. "I need at least another minute, minute and a half," he said, then went back to muttering healing spells.

"Very well, Lord Potter, you may continue what you are doing. The rest of you, stand down!" Her voice cracked like a whip on the last two words.

Slowly, Neville and Draco both lowered their wands, Neville sagging against Hermione as he did so. Blevins, however, kept his wand trained on Draco.

"Sir, if you do not wish to be the cause of an international incident, I strongly suggest that you do as I say," the Queen snapped. Grimacing, the American complied.

"Thank you," she said, after the immediate threat was over. "I see that some Americans have some sense of propriety, after all," she said. Then, muttering to herself, "not like that buffoon with his bloody iPod, or that ill-mannered virago he calls wife."

Ordering the SAS to fan out in the room with only a nod and a flick of her eyes, the Queen stepped carefully towards where Harry Potter still bent over the still form of Sally Darrow-Wright. She had only take a few steps over the debris which covered the floor when one of the red-robed wizards shook his head.

"Your pardon, Your Majesty," he said, then flicked his wand. Immediately, a path for the Queen cleared as the debris slid back of its own accord.

"Thank you, Basil," the elderly lady in the blue dress and hat murmured, then strode forward confidently. As she approached, Draco struggled to go to one knee.

The Queen smiled, and gave a small wave with one hand. "Be at ease, Earl Malfoy," she said quietly. "I presume that the lady currently monopolizing Lord Potter's attention is Miss Darrow-Wright?"

"Yes, your Majesty," Draco rasped. He couldn't fail to notice that the Queen was now shielding the trio with her Own person.

"And may We assume from the state of this room that Mr. Diggory was returned to his proper space and time?" she asked carefully.

"I...I don't know, ma'am," Draco answered with a shrug. "Certainly we managed to release the spell that was holding him here...with Potter's assistance," he qualified. "I assume that he went back to...where he came from." Draco wasn't surprised that the Monarch was aware of the project's plans and purpose--after all, he had been among the group of people who had briefed her--but the fact that she was so obviously current with their status was somewhat off-putting. His surprise--and his awe at her grasp of the situation--only increased with her next statement.

"And yet We find Ourselves still here, with no obvious alteration We can detect in Our memories or history as We know it. Does everyone else find that to be the case?" she asked, looking around the room.

A mixed bag of affirmatives came back from all sides of the room, her own guards included. Nodding, the Queen took a deep breath. "So, then...did you succeed, or was all of this for naught? Anyone?"

"I doubt that we can know for sure, Your Majesty," Hermione spoke up. She had managed to get Neville seated on the remains of one of the couches, and was standing beside him. "Since we are still here, and our history seems to be unchanged, it would seem that we have failed. However, as we discussed several times during your briefings, there was a degree of uncertainty as to whether we could 'find' and to 'lock on to' our time line's Cedric Diggory."

Elizabeth II nodded. "The many-worlds theory of quantum mechanics. Yes, you were quite clear in your explanation of it, Dame Hermione. So then, it is possible that your team did manage to return a version of Cedric Diggory back to his proper time and place?"

Hermione nodded, but plainly looked unhappy. "Possibly, ma'am. But, I doubt that I'll ever be able to confirm that for you."

"Understood, Dame Hermione. As We understood during Our briefings, it was a risk which could not be avoided. Well, then, since We cannot change things as they now are," she smiled thinly, "that leaves Us with having to deal with matters as they stand. Lord Potter, how fares your patient?"

Harry didn't answer for several seconds, since he was in the midst of casting his final spell. Finishing, he sat back, watching Sally's chest rise and fall evenly. Then, he looked over his shoulder at his Monarch with an impish grin.

"I think she'll be just fine, ma'am," he said, then gave a quick bow of his head towards the Queen.

"Very good. Commendable work, in fact. Still, Lord Potter, we are most vexed with you, young man." The Queen was giving Harry a stern look. Constitutionally limited Monarch or not, Draco found himself very glad that he wasn't the one on the receiving end of that glare.

Harry seemed similarly affected. Coming to one knee--and conveniently moving to allow Draco to slide down beside Sally, who was in a deep magical healing sleep, thanks be to all the gods (and one Harry Potter)--Harry bowed his head to his Queen once more.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but there just wasn't time...." he began.

The Queen cut him off. "Wasn't time? You should have taken the time, Harry James Potter! There I was, sitting at my desk going through my morning correspondence when your note appeared out of thin air! Imagine my surprise, being informed that you were on your way to prevent my Kingdom from being destroyed in a temporal rift. I expect such a letter from the Doctor, Lord Potter, but not from you! Now, tell me why I shouldn't have you stripped of your titles and banished from this Island for acting like an impulsive puppy?" she demanded.

Draco started, shocked at the Queen's tone, which was closer to that of a drill sergeant reaming out a raw recruit than a distinguished Monarch addressing a wayward noble. He also noted, to his surprise, that her use of Royal pronouns had vanished during said reaming.

Harry gulped visibly, then managed a wan smile. "Because I was wrong?" he asked. "They actually didn't manage to open a rift like I was afraid they were going to, ma'am," he went on. "And now, hopefully they'll quite trying...since I intend to surrender to them right now." he finished, his shoulders sagging.

"You will hold that impertinent tongue is what you will do," Elizabeth snapped. "Say nothing more until I command you to do so," she went on. Then, turning to Hermione. "Dame Hermione, before he went haring off to try and stop you from destroying Our Realm, Lord Potter caused certain...information...to be provided to Us, and to Our Prime Minister and intelligence services. I suspect that he may have shared some of this with you as well." The Monarch had returned.

"Yes, ma'am," Hermione nodded, carefully not adding that she had been petrified at the time. "May I assume that the accuracy and reliability of this information is being assessed at this time?"

"You may," the Queen answered. "In point of fact, some of it has already been verified, at least to Our satisfaction. Lord Potter, when he is not acting like a four year old," she said, glancing at the still-kneeling mage, "can be quite thorough with his documentation. But, We suspect that you are familiar with that particular trait of his."

"Yes, ma'am," Hermione managed something between a tightlipped grin and a sigh. "It's an old habit with Harry."

"I see. Well, I doubt that he will change his ways at this late date," she sighed. Then, turning to the American, Blevins. "Mr. Blevins, agents of My Government are presenting this information to your President, as well as to the leaders of Our allied powers, even as We speak. We expect that your own verification will reveal exactly what Ours has; namely, that it is accurate. It would appear that a number of Governments, Mine included, have been played for fools. In this matter, I assure you, We are _not_ amused in the slightest."

Blevins paled, swallowed, and nodded. "I...see, Your Majesty," he said. Then, "but what about the attack at the summoning facility earlier? There were a number of casualties, and several nuclear weapons were detonated on British soil."

"Oddly enough, there has been no satellite evidence of such detonations. Nor have any of the surrounding monitoring stations detected any appreciable increase in radiation, to say nothing of the complete absence of any kind of nuclear fallout. Lord Potter? I trust you have an explanation?" The Queen turned, her expression severe.

"I, uh, put up wards to contain any radiation, Your Majesty," Harry said, embarrassed. "I didn't want anyone to get hurt...or for anybody's automatic systems to react badly to what was going on," he finished, lamely.

"Didn't want anybody to get hurt? Damn you, Harry, I lost a lot of good people there!" Neville Longbottom tried to explode from his seat, but collapsed back.

"You're not the only one, Neville! I lost people, too! Friends, good friends! But, like your soldiers, mine were volunteers who knew exactly what they were getting into, and they died heroes!" Harry shot back, just as heatedly.

"Quiet, both of you!" Elizabeth snapped. "We regret the losses...on all sides...but what's done is done. Our immediate concern must be for the living. Lord Potter," she went on in the same astringent tone, "assuming that your wards will hold a bit longer, how will they affect the cleanup of the area?"

Harry had the grace to look ashamed as he shrugged. "I don't know, ma'am. Neville would actually be better equipped to answer that question than I would...after all, they were his nukes," he finished, glowering at the uniformed man who once had been one of his best friends.

"They were small, relatively clean weapons, Your Majesty," Neville responded. "Clean up should be a simple affair, really, especially with Harry's wards containing what contaminants there are. We can do a better job with magic than purely muggle means, of course...the biggest problem may be filling in the crater," he said solemnly.

"And for that, We shall be appropriately thankful," the Queen replied, nodding. "Now, since all of you have worked so diligently to bring Our Kingdom to the brink of nuclear annihilation, do any of you have any suggestions as to how to drag this country back from the brink?"

"Your Majesty," Harry said in a small voice."

"Yes, Lord Potter?"

"I'm willing to surrender to the authorities, on one condition," he said, looking at his Sovereign hopefully.

"We hardly think that you are in a position to be making demands, my Lord," the Queen said.

"It's not for me, ma'am," Harry went on hastily. "It's my people, both muggle and magical...and the creatures that have come to me for protection. As long as they are safe...taken care of...then what happens to me isn't important." He shrugged. "Hermione, Neville and all the rest here heard me swear on my life and my magic that I wasn't going to try the ritual everybody was convinced I was planning. Your Majesty knows what that means, plus you read what I put in my note to you. I'm not a threat to your government, or to the Kingdom." Harry sighed, suddenly looking his true age--far too young to be doing what he was doing--for the first time since Draco had seen him enter the hall. "We just wanted to be free, and to be left alone."

"An admirable goal, Lord Potter, if perhaps a bit flawed in your execution," Elizabeth paused, considering. "These people...many of them are actually _Our_ people, are they not?"

Harry shook his head, working out what the Monarch had just said. "Er, are they British citizens? A lot of them, Your Majesty," he said, shrugging yet again. "We didn't keep detailed records on that, especially at first. Mostly, all we cared about was whether or not they intended us harm or not."

"And yet, even by excluding that type of person, reports that allegedly came from inside your 'protected areas' claimed all manner of things," the Queen said. Then, she sighed herself, and seemed to be suddenly weary. "We saw several of those reports, as well, and We were convinced by them. You have very competent enemies, my Lord."

"Gee, thanks, Your Majesty...I think," Harry managed a wry grin.

"Impudent boy. Whatever shall We do with you?" the Queen asked, the corners of her mouth twitching.

Harry, however, was completely serious. "Take care of my people, Your Majesty...make them all your own, the 'creatures' too...and you can do with me as you will." He bowed his head, a proud man, yet willing to submit to his Sovereign's judgment.

"I see that you haven't neglected your studies, my Lord," the Queen responded. Then, to her somewhat shocked audience. "It is a quirk of Our laws, Mr. Blevins, that the Crown retains the power of justice high, middle and low over our magical subjects; even above their own Ministry and Wizengamot. It is rarely employed, as there is rarely a need...but then, Lord Potter has scarcely been known for his embrace of the usual and ordinary, has he?" Not expecting an answer, the Queen pursed her lips in thought. Then, with a single nod of her head, she made up her mind.

"Mr. Blevins," she spoke firmly, her decades of experience giving extra strength to her voice.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I believe that, given the information which We have provided to him, your President will no longer be willing to participate in an attack upon Our soil. We are confident that We, acting both as Sovereign and through Our Government, are competent manage the issue of Lord Potter's transgressions, without the aid of your government. We further intend to convey this message to the Republics of Ireland, France and Russia; Our other allies in NATO, the European Community, the United Nations, and all other countries which may be interested. Furthermore, We shall consider just how much of the information Lord Potter has provided to Us should be made available to the general public." When the American started to draw a breath, the Queen stopped him with one raised hand. "We are aware of the potential repercussions for several of Our so-called 'allies' in the Middle East, as well as those states which are not allied with Us in both Middle and Far East. However, the small matter of a barely-averted nuclear exchange on Our soil has not escaped Our attention, or Our ire. We will not be so easily duped again in future, nor will We be so quick in forgetting just who has done this to Us. For the moment, We will stay the hand of retribution, but We are not endowed with infinite patience. You may tell your President this, for Us." She grinned, and it was positively shark-like. "We have already dispatched a complete packet of this material to a number of world capitals, among them Washington, Dublin, Paris, Madrid, Brussels, Amsterdam, Berlin, Moscow, Tokyo, Beijing, Riyadh...and Tel Aviv." As the Queen hammered each capitol home, the Pentagon consultant flinched just a bit more with each one. Obviously, the Queen wasn't going to let this little fiasco quietly go away.

"I...understand, Your Majesty," Blevins answered. "I will convey your message exactly as you have given it to me."

"I appreciate that, Mr. Blevins. You may go," she said, turning away from him in dismissal. Not being a fool, he took the opportunity to head for the door as rapidly as he thought was prudent.

"Now, to the little matter of one Harry James Potter," she said, making a sour face. "We are given to understand that all of the land which has ever so conveniently disappeared from Our maps was either inherited or purchased by you, Lord Potter?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry answered, still with his head bowed.

"And all of the inhabitants of those lands are there by their own choice?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry confirmed.

"And these inhabitants have taken an oath of loyalty to you, Lord Potter?"

A shudder wracked Harry's body, and what Draco thought was a sob escaped him, but he said nothing.

"Answer Us, Lord Potter." Elizabeth was unflinching.

"Actually, they swore allegiance to me as their liege lord, and to you as their suzerain, Your Majesty," Harry corrected softly.

"And why was that, Lord Potter?"

"When you knighted me and made me accept the Potter and Black lordships, I swore on my magic to be your vassal, Majesty," Harry whispered.

"Again, Lord Potter...say that again, for all in this room to hear."

"I swore on my magic to be your vassal, Your Majesty," Harry said, looking up with tears streaking his face.

"And so you did," the Queen said, her voice softening. "Now tell me, my Lord Sir Harry James Potter-Black, have you kept your oath?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Harry sobbed.

"And what was that oath, my Lord?"

"To always stand as an example of what is good and just, to defend the weak, shelter the needy and succor the helpless; to protect and defend this Realm, the Crown and my Liege with my magic and my life, and to be loyal and true, always tempering justice with mercy."

"And you still have your magic, do you not?" the Queen asked gently.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Harry answered, his eyes bright.

"Which proves that you have, indeed, kept your oath." The Queen said carefully.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Harry nodded, the tears flowing easily now.

"Then, rise, my Lord Potter. Your Sovereign and Liege has need of you once more!" Elizabeth II's voice rang out. Reaching out, she offered her hand to Harry, who gently took it, pressing it to his lips. Then, she turned while her red-robed wizards moved to flank her where Harry stood by her side.

"We speak now as Sovereign of All of this United Kingdom, both Magical and Mundane, and invoke the Code of Merlin, which gives Us all Powers of Justice over Our Subjects Magical. We are aware of much tragedy that has occurred today, with a great loss of life on what were once thought to be both sides of this conflict. Now, it appears that Our entire Realm has been maneuvered by forces sinister into the precarious situation which now obtains. We hereby declare Our Lord Sir Harry James Potter-Black to have been an innocent victim of various and sundry circumstances, and do hereby grant him a Royal Pardon for such acts as he may have committed prior to this date. We do furthermore proclaim him a loyal and devoted vassal once again, and reaffirm Our confidence in him to act in Our best interests, and in the best interests of Our Realm."

Taking a breath, the Queen paused to mutter an aside so that only Harry could hear. "Screw up after this, my Lord, and I'll have your guts for garters...are we clear on that?" Harry gulped and nodded fractionally, his eyes going wide. The Queen's eyes crinkled with amusement when she saw that, and she again said, just as softly. "Good. I'm depending on you, Harry."

When she spoke again, it was in the same ringing voice as before. "Furthermore, We do acknowledge the heroic contributions of all those who perished this day, on both sides. We shall honor them all in the appropriate fashion at such time in the near future as proper arrangements can be made. Also, We would like to thank Major Sir Neville Longbottom, Dame Hermione Granger-Weasley, Earl Malfoy, and all others who strove so mightily on Our behalf, and on behalf of Our Realm. We command that, beginning no later than two days from this date, Dame Hermione assemble a group consisting of herself, Major Longbottom, Earl Malfoy, Lord Potter," the Queen ignored the sharp intakes of breath all around, "as well as such other persons as she shall deem necessary; said group having the responsibility of determining the names of all persons involved in this deception against Our Realm. We want them identified, We want them found, and We want them brought before Our Judges so that justice may be done! Do We make Ourselves understood in this matter?" At the various nods, the Queen finally gave a small, tight smile.

"Well, then, that would seem to be all that We should be required to do at the moment," she said, looking around once more.

"Er, excuse me," an anxious, frightened voice came from off to one side. "Can someone please tell me where I am...and how I got here?"

"CEDRIC!" Harry whooped, then apparated across the room to engulf the young man in his arms. The SAS troopers and wizards immediately snapped their weapons and wands up, but the Queen waved them down as she peered to where an hysterical Harry Potter was mauling a very confused...Cedric Diggory?

"Ced! You're here! You didn't go back! You're alive! Oh, Ced!" Harry said, then grabbed the young man by the back of the head, pulling him into a searing kiss. The young man...who certainly looked like Cedric Diggory...resisted for a moment, then allowed himself to be thoroughly snogged. When they came up for air, Harry immediately began dragging the mildly protesting young man across the room.

"Look, everybody! It's Cedric! Ced, what happened? Didn't you go back? Did something happen? Draco, help me check him, I can't feel any spell 'tether' like there was before. What's going on? Hermione, did you plan on pulling _two_ Cedrics forward? Ced, this is the Queen, say hello, Your Majesty; Your Majesty, this is Cedric Diggory, this whole thing is his fault...." and Harry slumped to the ground, asleep.

"Thank you, Roberts," the Queen smiled at one of her red-robed wizards, then turned to a thoroughly shocked Cedric Diggory. "He's just asleep, Mr. Diggory, fear not. Now, while it is very nice to meet you at long last, there are several important questions which must be answered. Dame Hermione?" she said, waving the bushy-haired woman forward.

***

Some time later, after the Queen had taken her leave (after having given strict instructions that she expected a briefing the following day), Hermione and Draco were huddled together while Neville issued orders to begin the preliminary cleanup. Draco had seen Sally taken away to the base's infirmary, while Harry had been put on a makeshift camp bed off to one side, where Cedric sat, holding onto his hand.

"Look at those two," Draco said softly. "This Cedric appears out of nowhere, doesn't remember anything after he was AK'd, and the only thing he's worried about is Potter. Disgusting," he frowned.

"Just like a pureblood bawling like a baby over a hurt little muggle girl," Hermione teased, giving Draco a gentle nudge.

"Hag."

"Muggle lover."

"If you two are quite finished," Neville exhaled. He knew, from long experience, that Draco and Hermione were best of friends...but he also knew that they could go on like that for hours before one of them ran out of insults. "You still haven't told me where this Cedric came from, much less where the other one went to," he grumped. His head hurt, and he wanted a hot bath, a cold drink, and a warm bed...not necessarily in that order.

Hermione looked at Neville and shrugged. "Who knows? I certainly don't."

"Wonderful," Neville sighed. "Draco? Can you do any better?"

"Certainly I can," Draco smirked. "Who the _fck_ knows? How about that?" he grinned scarily.

"I'm going to have some of my men shoot you both...you realize that, don't you?" Neville asked, deadpan.

"Sorry, Neville, just kidding," Draco said, not sounding particularly sorry. "Honestly, I think Hermione's many worlds theory is probably as good an idea as we're going to come up with. This Cedric," he said, bobbing his head towards the 'new' Diggory, "doesn't have any magical tether that either of us can find...but at the same time, he doesn't 'resonate' like someone from this universe, either."

"So, you're telling me he's from another universe...but there's no way to send him back?" the Major asked.

"Or even find out which universe he came from, without going through every single one of them," Hermione said, nodding her head.

"Wait a minute...every single one of them? Didn't you say, months ago, that the number was..?"

"Practically infinite, yes," Hermione answered before the question was finished. "So, based on what we know thus far, I'd say we're stuck with him."

"Nuuh...no. 'e's mine," a faint voice came from the cot where Harry had been sleeping.

Hermione, Neville and Draco whipped around to see a dazed Harry Potter sitting up, emerald eyes locked onto Cedric Diggory's gray ones. Then, Harry spoke, more clearly.

"He's mine, and I'm keeping him." From his tone, the three friends knew that it would be useless to argue.

"Harry, he doesn't even know what happened to bring him hear," Hermione began, only to be cut off.

"So, tell him! You told the 'other' him, not an hour ago. Tell _him_," Harry hissed, gripping Cedric's hand more tightly.

"Better do what he says, Granger," Draco drawled. "Trust me, you don't want to mess with Potter when he starts hissing at you."

***

Much later that evening, Cedric Diggory found himself seated on dragon-back, holding on for dear life to an adult Harry Potter. He was still trying to adjust his thinking to his new situation, most especially the fact that his 'younger' boyfriend was now several years old...and definitely 'legal'.

Oh, and traveled around on dragon-back. That, too.

"So...in this world, I died in the third tournament? Stupid TriWizard, never should have entered," he said, having to speak directly into Harry's ear to be heard.

"I didn't, if you'll recall...fat lot of good it did me," Harry yelled back. "So...did Hermione and Draco find out anything different in your history there than here?" he yelled.

"I can see right now we're going to have to develop some new words to talk about 'here' and 'there'," Cedric laughed. "And, no, they didn't. But, we only had a bit to talk before they had to run...and _somebody_ just couldn't wait to drag me outside and make me climb up onto a blood great dragon!"

"Guilty as charged," Harry laughed. "But you still love me, don't you?"

"Always, love, always," Cedric reassured his boyfriend.

"Just wait until I get you home, Ced...you'll love it. I've got a nice place in a valley, there's a stream, and a woods, and a garden...and now it'll be prefect!" Harry was absolutely giddy.

"I'm sure it'll be fine, so long as you're there," Cedric replied, squeezing Harry gently. He had started to process the horror story that he had been told, about Harry's life after his 'death', but he knew that it would be weeks, if not years before he fully understood what his love had endured. Well, that part of his life was over now, and even though he didn't understand how he had come to this place and time, he was here now...and he never intended to leave Harry alone, ever again.

"Oh, Cedric, it's going to be wonderful," Harry was going on. "You'll get to meet everybody...not just the people, but the centaurs, and the elves, and the creatures...oh, you'll love the dragons, they're so nice once you get to know them. Plus, all of the magic I'll be able to share with you! There are spells that have been forgotten for centuries I've been able to recover...and now you can help me share them with the world."

"That's all very well and good, Harry, but aren't you about to be attacked by several other countries?" Cedric had heard that much, at least, and it was worrying him no end.

"Oh, Elizabeth is already taking care of that, I imagine," Harry waved away Cedric's concerns. "Besides...and this is a big secret, you can't tell _anyone_...we've arranged magical shields over most of our areas that will prevent any nukes from going off. So, unless you actually get hit in the head with one of the bloody things, you'll be fine!" He grinned like a maniac when he said this, to Cedric's horror.

"Wha..? You mean, the world was about to destroy the country, and you'd already arranged to stop it? You little berk! Why didn't you tell somebody?" the Hufflepuff raged.

"Ced, calm down! If I had told them that, then they would have come up with something else...and I promise you, the muggles have plenty of things that are worse than a few nuclear warheads. Things that magic can't even begin to counter," Harry said ominously. "No, let them think that we're vulnerable to their favorite toys, and hopefully that's what they'll always reach for first. It's just good strategy...you'll see," Harry explained.

Cedric sighed. "I guess I have a lot to learn, then," he said.

"You do, but I'm here to teach you. And, you won't have to learn it the hard way, like I did," Harry consoled the taller man gently.

"I...guess I should be thankful for that," Cedric conceded.

The pair flew on in silence for a moment, then Cedric said thoughtfully. "You know, you're not the little kid that I remember, are you?"

Harry shook his head. "Cedric, I haven't been that 'little kid' for a long time now. I hope that won't be a problem for you...for us."

To answer his boyfriend, Cedric gave a gentle bite to Harry's neck. "No, I don't think it'll be a problem...especially now that you're all growed up." He bit again, sucking lightly at the tender flesh.

Harry's body contorted so much with pleasure that the dragon swerved in its flight. "Diggory, if you don't stop that, we won't make it home before I show you just how growed up I really am," he panted.

"So?" Cedric asked, then went right back to what he had been doing. Then, he began nibbling ever so gently around the rim of Harry's ear.

"All right, that's IT!" Harry roared, then hissed at the dragon in parseltongue. Reaching back, he grabbed a surprised Hufflepuff with one hand, then apparated them away.

Fortunately, the dragon was able to find its way home on its own.

**The End**

_**(really)**_

**A/N: ** Okay, so this is the first big story that I ever wrote (and boy, does it show!), but I just couldn't leave well enough alone. Plus, I'm a sucker for happy endings, and ever since I saw Helen Mirren's **The Queen** I've been having this picture in my head about bringing Her Majesty into a fic--no disrespect intended, of course. Should any member of the royal family read this, please remember that Her Majesty comes in to sort the whole mess out--and has special authority over the Magicals to do so. Plus, nobody with any sense aggravates the Queen unnecessarily (Obamas, take note...she ain't just another rich old broad at an ACORN meeting!) At any rate, I figured this version of Harry deserved a happy ending after all the crap I put him through, so I stole another Cedric from yet another universe! Before you ask: no, I'm not going to write the fic where Cedric vanishes from the graveyard, never to be seen again. Why bother, as it's too close to canon anyway....

So, in this particular universe, the Queen has ultimate authority over the magicals that derives from Merlin himself, and occasionally has contact with the Doctor, as well--so you can imagine that she has her own 'special' unit for those times when only the Monarch will do....

Harry's oath I made up completely, after looking over a bunch of historical and neo-historical (read: Society for Creative Anachronism) oaths. Hopefully, it's not a bad oath...I rather like it, myself.

Anyway, this ties up some loose ends, and gives the piece that little extra warm fuzzy feeling we all know and love. Plus, it gave me another chance to write an extra bit for Earl Malfoy and his lady love...who really is going to be okay! Now, if anyone wants to write a story about Lady Sally Malfoy, Countess Malfoy...go right ahead!

Now, if you haven't already figured it out, the sequel to this story (that follows the adventures of the Cedric that gets sent back) is called One Wizarding Summer, and is also posted here on fanfiction dot net. Enjoy!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notice:** the first chapter of the sequel to this fic, **Harry Potter and the Vale of Destiny**, has now been posted on this site. It can be accessed through the profile of the author.

Remember, reviews feed the plot bunnies. Don't make me beg....

Thanks, and be well,

Twistyguru


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